Sleep. I’ll be around tomorrow.
I didn’t overthink the answer.
Okay.
The office settled around me like a blanket. The silence didn’t feel empty. It felt warm. And for tonight, that was enough.
Chapter 20
Beckett
I told myself I’d only be there five minutes. Drop off the donated gear, sign the form, get out before I did something I couldn’t walk back. Easy.
The foundation’s office smelled like coffee and printer ink—too familiar for my own good. Ellery was behind her desk, hair pulled back, pen tapping against a folder. When she looked up and smiled, it hit harder than a clean tackle to the ribs. Like nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t kissed me back and then thrown up all over my shirt.
She remembered. She had to. Nobody forgot that.
I shifted the bag of cleats on my shoulder, trying to act normal, but Naomi was already in the background, perched on a filing cabinet like she’d been waiting to pounce.
“Hey, dream guy,” she called, grinning. “Good to see you in daylight.”
Ellery’s head dropped instantly, a faint blush climbing up her neck. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing and leaned on the counter instead.
“You sound alive,” I said. “Miracle.”
She looked up, eyes narrowing just enough to make me grin harder. “You sound smug. Less miraculous.”
There it was—the spark that had no business making my heart kick like that.
Naomi snorted and vanished conveniently into the back room, muttering something about ‘grabbing paperwork’. Which, knowing her, was code for ‘leaving you two idiots alone’.
I tried to stay focused, handing over the clipboard for her to sign. Our fingers brushed—barely—but it was enough. Static shot straight up my arm, fast and sharp.
She froze. I pretended I didn’t notice.
“Thanks,” I said, voice rougher than it should’ve been.
She gave a small nod, still looking everywhere but at me. “Appreciate the drop-off. The kids will love this.”
I should’ve left right then, but I couldn’t stop watching the curve of her smile—the one she used when she was trying too hard to be fine.
The silence stretched until it wasn’t comfortable anymore, until I could feel the air bending around it. I coughed, forcing a smirk. “Anyway. Training.”
Her brows lifted. “Now? You just got here.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve got to stay sharp. Wouldn’t want to ruin your PR photos with my poor form.”
That earned me a small laugh. It wasn’t much, but it hit harder than it should’ve.
I turned for the door before I could say something stupid, like how good it was to see her smile again.
As I stepped outside into the glare of late morning, the noise of the street rushed back in—cars, horns, normal life. I should’ve felt relieved to be gone. Instead, my pulse was still going like I’d just sprinted a mile.
I told myself I was fine. That the kiss hadn’t meant anything. That I wasn’t replaying the sound of her laugh in my head like it was the only thing keeping me upright.
But as I climbed into my truck and gripped the steering wheel, the truth settled in low and unshakable.
Five minutes had turned into something a lot more dangerous.
