Harlow’s voice is small. “Don’t.”
Kai pulls back just enough to look at her face. His eyes are glassy. He blinks hard. Then he says, blunt and quiet, “He’s not saying that shit again.”
Harlow swallows. “Kai?—”
“I mean it,” he cuts in, then softens instantly. “I mean it.”
Harlow nods once. Not agreeing. Not praising. Just…accepting that he needs to say it.
Wren clears her throat softly, like she’s giving them a moment but also reminding them the hallway is not private.
Weston appears, bounces once on his toes, and then blurts, “For the record, I would like to volunteer as tribute to hit him next time.”
Harlow’s mouth twitches faintly.
Kai’s glare slices to Weston. “Stop.”
Weston zips his lips with an exaggerated motion and holds up both hands.
Harlow’s eyes drift to me. And the second they land, my body reacts in a way that makes me feel exposed. Her gaze drops to my cheek. The swelling is already there; I can feel it. Her eyes flick back up. There’s something in them that makes my stomach flip.
Something like…mine, and she hates that I was hurt.
Kai follows her gaze. His eyes cut to my face.
“Jesus,” he mutters. “You’re going to look great in your draft photos.”
I snort once. It’s the closest thing to a laugh I’ve had all night.
Kai looks back at Harlow, expression shifting again—captain to brother to something softer. There’s a flicker of pain in his face like he’s struggling to not be the one to take her home and make sure that she’s okay.
“Text me,” he says.
Harlow rolls her eyes faintly. “I will.”
Kai’s mouth twitches, like he’s fighting a smile. “Good.”
Then he leans in and presses his forehead to hers for half a second—something private. And when he pulls back, he looks slightly broken. Like a man who is in the middle of learning that loving someone means letting them choose danger sometimes.
He straightens. Captain back on.
He glances at me.
“If you need anything,” he says quietly
I nod once. “Got it.”
Kai takes a breath.
Then he steps back, eyes flicking to Wren—pain flashing, buried fast. He bolts. Just…turns and walks away down the hallway like if he stays one second longer, he’ll lose control of his face.
Wren watches him go with an expression that is too complicated to belong in a hallway. Then she looks back at Harlow and forces her voice light.
“Well,” she says. “That went…fantastic.”
Harlow exhales a shaky laugh that sounds like it didn’t know it could exist tonight.
Weston perks up like he senses a comedic opening. “I’d like to nominate that interaction for the Most Awkward Award.”
