"You studied."
"I might have done a little Googling.” She wasn't looking at him. She was looking at the city lights, chin lifted, like this was perfectly normal. "A few articles. Some videos. Nothing excessive."
"A few articles."
"Maybe a documentary."
"Emmy."
"Fine. I watched a lot of game tape. It was educational." Now she looked at him—defiant, flushed, that stubborn set to her jaw he'd known since she was twelve and argued him into letting her play quarterback in the backyard. "It was important that I understand what's important to you."
The words hung in the cold October air.
Grant couldn't breathe.
"For matchmaking purposes," Emmy added.
Too late. Half a beat too late.
And they both knew it.
The wind gusted. Emmy shivered—one sharp jerk that traveled from her bare shoulders down to her fingertips.
Grant shrugged out of his jacket. Settled it around her shoulders.
The weight of it pulled her forward slightly. The sleeves pooled past her wrists. She tilted her chin up at him, and Grant's next breath came in wrong—too sharp, too shallow, caught somewhere it couldn't get past.
"For matchmaking purposes," he said. Rough. Like the words had scraped something on the way out.
Emmy nodded. Pulled his jacket tighter around herself. "Of course."
"Right."
Neither of them moved.
Close enough to count her heartbeats in the hollow of her throat. Close enough to see her pupils blow wide when he didn't step back.
Close enough to lean down and?—
"There you are."
Tyce Duke filled the doorway, backlit by the atrium. Emmy turned so fast she nearly caught her heel on the terrace stone.
"I've been looking everywhere." Tyce stepped onto the terrace, his eyes tracking from Emmy to Grant, cataloging the jacket around her shoulders, the distance that wasn't distance at all. His smile sharpened. "Mind if I borrow her, Knight?"
He stepped forward, his hand landing heavy on the shoulder of Grant's jacket, right over Emmy's skin.
"Cecelia wants to introduce her to someone."
Grant looked at Emmy. She was already pulling off the jacket with shaking hands. Grateful for the exit.
"Keep it," Grant said. "You're freezing."
"I'm fine." She thrust the jacket at him. "Thank you for—for earlier. For what you said. About me being smart."
She stepped toward Tyce. The other man didn't move out of the doorway immediately. He held Grant's gaze for a beat too long, his hand closing over Emmy's bare elbow.
"Don't worry, Knight," Tyce said, his voice low. "I'll keep her warm."
