Inside, irritation burns in my chest. Not at the reporter, they're just doing their job, but at Nova for putting us in this position in the first place.
I remember cornering him in the locker room after the loss. When I'd brought up the front-page photo from the previous night, he waved it off, giving me the same response I just gave the reporter: his personal life has zero correlation with the team's performance.
Still, I'm glad when the interview finally ends and I can go home.
The apartment smells like Chinese takeout when I walk in, and I find Harper at the dining table, surrounded by her usual chaos of papers. She looks up when she hears my footsteps, and a guarded expression comes over her features before she grins.
“Wow. Suit and tie. Media day?” She gives me a once-over. “It’s a good look. Very commanding captain.”
I usually shrug off compliments. They’re part of the uniform. But this one, from her, lands differently. A stupid, unwarranted surge of pride hits me. “Thanks,” I manage, my voice gruffer than intended.
I shrug off my jacket, needing to do something with my hands. “How are preparations for the kickoff party going?”
The light in her eyes dims instantly, replaced by a flicker of stress. She runs a hand through her hair. “They were going great until about two hours ago. The Rainbow Room is suddenly giving us the runaround. It’s a mess.”
“Can I help? I might have some connections.”
“No.” The word comes out sharp, and she immediately looks contrite. “Thank you, but I'd rather handle this without help.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Sore point?”
She sighs. “I've always wanted to make it on my own merit. Not because of who I know or who my brother knows.”
I study her face and see something I recognize in myself. The same drive that pushed me to captain this team, the need to prove yourself worthy of the position. “Tell me about your company.”
“I started Hayes & Company Events five years ago with money I saved waitressing through college. Jessica, James, and Amber are my only full-time employees.” She gestures at the papers around her. “This Renegades contract is the biggest thing we've ever landed.”
I'm impressed despite myself. Building a business from nothing, especially in New York's competitive event planning market, takes balls. “That's really impressive.”
Her features soften. “Thanks. It's been a lot of sleepless nights, but we're finally starting to get somewhere.”
“How's practice going?” she asks, clearly wanting to change the subject. “You ready for the season?”
“As ready as we can be. The team looks better than we have in years.” I sit down across from her, something I wouldn't have done yesterday. “This is our year to make the playoffs.”
“No pressure there,” she says with a smile.
“I work better under pressure.”
“Yeah, I'm starting to figure that out about you,” she says, locking gazes with me.
There's something in the way she says it, like she's seeing pieces of me I don't usually show people. It makes me squirm.
“Speaking of pressure,” she says. “I talked to my contractor the other day.”
I can tell by her tone that this isn't good news. “And?”
“The damage is worse than we thought. Six to eight weeks’ minimum, maybe longer if they run into complications with the building's plumbing.”
Six to eight weeks. Two months of Harper in my space, making me think about things I shouldn't be thinking about. I should be annoyed, maybe even ask her to find alternative arrangements. Instead, I hear myself saying, “You can stay as long as you need.”
Harper's eyes widen, and she searches my face for some sign that I don't mean it. “Cole, that's a long time. I don't want to impose.”
“You're not imposing.” The lie comes easily, even though we both know it's not entirely true. “It's a big apartment. We can make it work.”
The moment stretches between us, and the memory of our kiss springs to my mind. I should say something about it, address what happened, but the words stick in my throat.
Harper must feel it, too, because she suddenly looks uncomfortable. “Thank you. I'll try to stay out of your way.”
