“Thanks,” I said.
She avoided my gaze. “Yeah.”
We stood there, sipping coffee, the unspoken hanging between us. I wanted to say something. Anything. To acknowledge it. To clear the air.
But what would I even say?
Hey, sorry I almost kissed you even though our marriage is fake and I’m pretty sure I’m falling for you?
Yeah. Smooth.
“Shouldn’t you be leaving for the pool?” she said finally, glancing at her watch.
I checked my watch, and sure enough, I should have left five minutes ago.
“Uh, right,” I stammered, feeling dumb for getting lost in Roxie and losing track of time. “I’ll, uh, see you later.”
I set down my coffee and grabbed my swim bag, hurrying out the door, not only so I wouldn’t be late, but so I wouldn’t embarrass myself even more in front of Roxie.
The pool was the only place my head ever quieted.
The smell of chlorine. The echo of voices bouncing off tile. The comfort of routine. I needed that today.
I dove in hard, pushing off the block with more force than necessary, slicing through the water like I could outrun my thoughts.
Except it wasn’t working today.
Every lap, her face intruded. Her laugh. The way she’d looked at me last night when I stepped in front of that guy, like she was pleasantly surprised. Like she hadn’t expected me to be that for her.
I pulled myself out at the end of a set, lungs burning.
“You’re going to crack the tiles if you keep hitting the wall like that,” Talon said dryly from the bench.
I wiped water from my face. “Didn’t realize you were the pool police.”
“Just perceptive.” He tilted his head. “Something eating you?”
Ridge snorted as he toweled off beside us. “More like someone.”
I shot him a look. “Don’t start.”
“Oh, I’m starting,” Ridge said cheerfully. “Because last night? Bar Ledger was back. Laughing. Relaxed. And you and Roxie were?—”
“Different,” Talon finished.
I sighed, dropping onto the bench. “You guys analyzing us now?”
“We have eyes,” Ridge said. “And we’re not blind.”
I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, hands clasped loosely like that might keep everything from spilling out. My heart was still racing from the workout, but this had nothing to do with laps or split times.
I should’ve shut it down. Made a joke. Told them they were reading into things that weren’t there.
Because whatever this was with Roxie, it wasn’t real. It was convenient. Short term. Built on paperwork and circumstances and a shared bed we pretended didn’t mean anything.
But then there was the way she’d looked at me last night. The way she hadn’t pulled away this morning. The way my chest still felt tight when I thought about how close we’d been on that sidewalk.
I scrubbed a hand over my face.
