Reese huffed a soft laugh. “Maybe. Or maybe we’re all just a little unhinged for choosing this life.”
“Both can be true,” Sloane offered, a small smile tugging at her mouth.
Reese’s expression turned playful for a heartbeat, a flicker of her usual spark returning. “You would know.”
“Yeah,” Sloane conceded. “I would.”
The words lodged for a moment, catching on something sharp in her chest. She wasn’t sure if Reese was alluding to her accident, but it was right where Sloane’s brain went. She pushed past it. Coming back to the academy had been risky, closer to the action than she’d been in years, and sometimes the sounds alone could tilt her back into memories she’d spent a long time learning to survive. But this wasn’t the moment for that. She forced her focus back to Reese, steadying herself and focusing on the beautiful woman in front of her, a puzzle she couldn’t help but want to solve, dangerous or not.
For a moment, the noise of the restaurant faded. The low hum of voices, the clink of cups, the hiss of the espresso machine. All she really registered was Reese across from her, the light outlining the curve of her cheekbone, the weight of something unspoken settling between them. Something real.
Reese tapped a knuckle lightly against the table. “I don’t talk about him much. But I did a week ago with Marissa.”
“Because you trust her. She’s your friend from what I’ve seen.”
“More than I ever would have guessed when I arrived. But I went there with you, too.”
Sloane met her eyes. “Because you needed to. And I listened.”
Reese considered that, then nodded once. “Yeah. You did.” They stared at each other for longer than two regular people were supposed to, drawing a giant arrow sign over the uniquetension that seemed to underscore their interactions. “You do realize I’ve developed a huge crush on you.”
Sloane usually would have dodged such a comment, keeping her head on straight. Tonight, the out-of-the-way location that made her feel far removed from the real world loosened her grip on the practical. “Is that true?”
“And this conversation, this meal, the way you’re looking at me right now …” Reese let out a breath that sounded dangerously close to a sigh. “It’s not helping.”
Sloane felt her pulse thrum once. She should shut this down, redirect, and remind them both of the boundaries she was here to uphold. That was the smart thing. The necessary thing.
But Reese was still watching her, eyes bright and open in a way that stripped Sloane’s defenses down to their foundations.
“I’m looking at you,” Sloane said carefully, “because you’re being honest. And because you matter. That’s all.”
Reese’s lips quirked, not quite a smile. “Doesn’t feel like ‘that’s all.’”
God, she wasn’t wrong. The space between them felt charged, humming with something Sloane had no business entertaining.
“I work for the academy,” Sloane reminded softly, a quiet tether to reality. “We have rules. Lines.”
“Lines can exist,” Reese said, voice low but steady, “and there can still be … whatever this is.”
The candor was disarming. So was the courage behind it. Sloane pressed her palms to the underside of the table, grounding herself.
“Reese,” she said, gentle but firm, “you’re incredible. And I’m not pretending I don’t feel an attraction. But I can’t step over that line. Not here. Not now.”
Reese took that in without flinching. “I didn’t ask you to step over it. I just needed you to know.”
Sloane exhaled, something inside her easing. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Now I know.”
Reese nodded once, the tension between them softening, settling into something less unnerving. “Good,” she murmured. “Feels better already.”
It did. And it didn’t. In equal measure.
Sloane reached for her napkin, more to give her hands something to do than anything else. “We should get going,” she said, her voice softer than she meant it to be. “Long day tomorrow.”
Reese nodded, pushing her chair back. “Yeah. Makes sense.”
They stood, and for one suspended second, simply looked at each other again, an acknowledgment of everything said and everything that couldn’t be.
Sloane gestured toward the door. “Come on. I’ll walk you out.”
