Target reached.
There’s a beat of stunned silence as the room takes it in, but then the number ticks again. And again.
The cheer that follows is visceral, and I can hear Levi’s mom let out a sob.
I don’t remember moving, but suddenly, I’m in the service corridor outside the main event space, palm pressed to the cool brick wall, breathing hard.
It worked. We did it. Levi gets his trial.
The realization hits hard and fast. My vision blurs before I can stop it, and I drag in a breath that shudders on the way out, annoyed at myself for losing composure now of all times. I swipe impatiently at my eyes, blinking until the sting fades, until I feel like I can breathe again.
“Here.”
I look up to find Reid standing in front of me, holding out a bottle of water.
“Drink,” he adds.
I take it without arguing, fingers brushing his momentarily before I twist the cap off. The first swallow is almost painfully welcome, the coolness cutting through the haze and settling my pulse back into something manageable.
“Thank you,” I say, quietly.
He watches me closely, eyes tracking every detail. My breathing, the way my shoulders finally drop, the way I lean back into the wall to steady myself.
“You okay?” he asks.
I nod, then let out a soft, breathless laugh.
“I think so. I just—” I gesture back toward the room, toward the noise and the joy and the chaos. “I didn’t think it would feel like this.”
He shifts closer, not crowding me, but close enough that I can hear him without strain over the music and voices bleeding through the doorway.
“It’s a good night,” he says simply.
“It’s more than that.” I meet his eyes, the words pressing up and out of me before I can stop them. “You did this, and I don’t even know how to say thank you without it sounding… insufficient.”
He shakes his head in protest, so fast I almost miss it. “You don’t have to say anything.”
“I do,” I insist. “You didn’t need to get this involved. You didn’t need to remember all those details, or pull in half the city’s professional athletes, or—”
“Carina,” he interrupts gently. “I wanted to.”
There it is again. Not Doc, not Havoc. My name, so quiet and unadorned on his lips, loaded in a way that makes my pulse thunder.
We stand there for a beat too long, the air between us suddenly aware of itself. I can feel the heat of him, the solid presence of his body so close to mine, the faint scent of his cologne mixing with the cold corridor air.
My gaze drops unintentionally to his mouth. I catch myself just in time, but the damage is done. The navy specks in his blue eyes seem to darken, just a fraction.
“We should…” I nod back toward the door, bringing a palm up to my cheek to pat away my tears, and pray I haven’t smudged my mascara. The water in my hand is already half gone.
Reid nods at it. “Better?”
“Yes.” I glance down at the bottle, then back up at him. “Thank you. For noticing.”
“It’s hard not to notice you.”
I huff a nervous laugh, then swipe at my face again. Reid’s hand comes up gently, as though he’s giving me every opportunity to pull away. His fingers graze the shell of my shoulder first, then trail upward. The contact sends a shiver through me that has nothing to do with the cold, and all I can do is stand there, relishing in his touch.
“You, uhh,” he murmurs, thumb brushing just beneath my eye, “missed a spot.”
