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“Well, this is a surprise.” I ignore the happiness flowing through me.
“I told you I’d be here.” He holds out the tray with a theatrical flourish. “Lemon poppyseed. I heard it’s your backup favorite,” he says, voice pitched low, like we’re in on something together.
I reach for the muffin, but he holds it just out of reach, making me step closer. I try to glare at him, but his eyes are so blue I actually forget what I’m supposed to be annoyed about. “Stop torturing me and hand over the scone.”
“Anything for you,” he says, and there’s a flicker of vulnerability so brief I almost miss it. “I told you I was persistent.”
I take the muffin and break off a piece, refusing to let him see how hard I’m blushing. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I actually did.” He stares down into my eyes. “I needed to see you, and I couldn’t wait a second longer.”
I’m about to make a smartass reply when he leans in and presses a kiss to my lips—quick, soft, electric. It’s so unexpected I nearly drop my muffin.
“See you soon.” Then he’s gone, just like that, leaving me with a mouthful of lemon poppyseed and a fresh supply of adrenaline. I stare at the door after he leaves, muffin forgotten, lips tingling like I’ve swallowed a mouthful of Pop Rocks.
I make it through the rest of my shift on that single stupid kiss. The triage line could be a thousand people deep, but I can’t stop replaying the memory of his mouth on mine, the quiet way he said “needed to see you,” like it was the most natural thing in the world. When the end of the shift finally comes, I find myself at the hospital doors scanning the sidewalk, half-expecting him to be there waiting for me.
The third night, I’m an actual wreck. I tell myself to be cool, to not expect him. I stand in the hallway outside the break room for a full minute before psyching myself up to go inside. I count to five. I breathe. I walk in.
He’s there before me, sitting at the tiny table with his long legs folded awkwardly beneath him, scrolling through something on his phone. “Hey, firecracker.” He holds up the bag. “Tonight, I got chocolate chip muffins and double espressos.” My stomach instantly growls in anticipation.
His hair is a disaster, sticking up in all directions, and there’s a cut above his eyebrow he didn’t have last night. I want to ask if he’s okay, but my words come out all tangled.
“How are you even alive right now? The Knights played earlier tonight. You couldn’t have had enough time to get some sleep.”
He shrugs, looking up at me like I’m the only woman in the world. “I don’t need much sleep. And I wanted to see you. So, I made it work.” He says it with that low, unhurried confidence.
I take the espresso from him with a smile. “Thank you.”
He runs his finger down the side of my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine. “You look tired.”
“I left tired in the rearview mirror two hours ago,” I admit, too exhausted to pretend otherwise. I sink into the chair across from him, the warm cup between my hands, and for the first time in hours, I feel the tension go out of my neck and shoulders. “But it’s not like you’re the picture of rest. What happened to your eye?”
He touches the cut with two fingers, as if he’d forgotten about it. “Friendly fire. My captain’s stick. I’m fine.”
I can’t help myself. I lean in, gently brushing my thumb over the cut. “You don’t have to come here every night.”
He grins, and it’s so genuine that for a second, I forget every reason I’ve ever had to keep him at arm’s length. “Yes, I do,” he says, and he means it. “Seeing you is worth losing a couple hours of sleep.”
My heart does a weird, traitorous thing in my ribcage. I want to say something clever, but the only words that come are honest ones. “I’m glad you came.”
He looks at me, really looks, and the world gets very quiet. “I wouldn’t miss the chance to spend a few minutes with you.” Oh, man. He’s making it so hard for me to remember my “no athletes” rule.
He stands up, slow and deliberate, and pulls me to my feet. He’s so much taller, but when he cups my face in his hands, I feel like I could take him apart with just a word. “I’ll see you soon.” He smiles and places a soft kiss on my lips.
I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak. Instead, I go up on my toes and kiss him back, and this time I don’t stop at a single brush of lips. The kiss is urgent, desperate, like two people trying to memorize each other before the world gets in the way. When he finally lets me breathe, I’m lightheaded.
“I’ll look forward to it.” I really freaking mean it.
The rest of my week is a blur of work and anticipation. Every night, he’s there. Sometimes it’s just for five minutes, sometimes longer. By the end of my five nights in a row, I’m not just melting. I’m already halfway in love with him.
I’m so tired the world has gone fuzzy around the edges, but every cell in my body is buzzing. I finally get home just after dawn, throw myself in the shower, and let the hot water do its best to bring me back to life. But nothing works. I can’t stop thinking about him. I’m in so much trouble.
CHAPTER TEN
JAXSON
The private airfield is nothing but endless gray tarmac, windswept and desolate under a Seattle sky that’s slowly choking itself with clouds. I check my watch again. That’s four times in two minutes, and the damn thing feels colder each time. I wanted to pick Harper up, but she flat refused like I should’ve guessed she would. Says she never lets a man come to her place on a first date. Smart, I know. Problem is, it reminds me that I’m not the first man she’s dated. And the thought of her dating anyone else makes me want to put my fist through concrete. God. I’m losing my fucking mind.
