Not uncomfortable.
Full.
I gesture toward the exit. “You want to walk?”
Her gaze flicks to the doors. Hesitation. Calculation. Then back to me.
“Where?” she asks.
“Anywhere that’s not here,” I say lightly. “Too many people.”
Her shoulders drop a fraction.
“Okay,” she says.
And suddenly we’re walking side by side out into the afternoon, campus washed in soft gold. I’m hyperaware of the space between us—six inches of charged air. Every so often, our sleeves brush. Each time it sends a jolt through me sharpenough that I have to force my hands to stay loose at my sides instead of reaching.
We don’t talk right away. The quiet feels intentional, like we’re both protecting it.
Finally, she speaks. “Kai’s not happy.”
I huff softly. “That’s his baseline setting.”
Her eyes flick to mine, and I catch the smallest lift at the corner of her mouth—almost a smile, then gone. Her fingers twist together in front of her. “We had a pretty rough conversation earlier. It was needed, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”
I stop near a low stone wall bordering a patch of grass. She leans against it, posture guarded but not closed—balanced between staying and bolting. The wind lifts a strand of hair across her cheek. She tucks it back like she’s annoyed that her body can’t cooperate.
“Is that why you were at practice today?” I ask, softer.
“Yeah. It’s just been a rough couple of days.” Her eyes shine with unshed tears, and she sniffles, looking away quickly, blinking hard like she hates that her body betrays her.
“I should go,” she whispers.
I nod, even though everything in me wants to ask her to stay.
“I’ll walk you?—”
She shakes her head. “Kai’s waiting.”
Of course he is. I step back, hands sliding into my pockets like I can hide how badly I want to reach out and touch her. To hold her. To make her see that she’s okay, and that shewillbe okay.
“Get home safe,” I say.
Harlow nods once. “You too.”
Then she’s gone, moving away with shoulders squared but steps lighter than when she arrived. I stand there too long,staring at the place where she was like my body expects her to come back.
Then I force myself to turn toward home.
Kai is in the kitchen when I walk into our apartment later, arms crossed, expression carved from stone, tension radiating off of him in waves.
Shit.
“Where were you?” he asks.
I keep my voice even. “Just walking around. Needed to clear my head.”
“Have a lot on your mind?”
