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I thought Marcus in his football uniform was pretty showstopping. When he for a formal event, I had to fight the urge to stare at him all night. And him in jeans and a T-shirt would make me buy whatever he’s selling.

I used to hate that his looks had any effect on me.

But this?

Marcus Delaney dressed out for a team travel day?

I don’t know if I’m breathing.

“Cass!” he says, stepping toward me and pulling me into a hug.

He buries his face in my hair like a boyfriend would do, and then he inhales deeply.

He smells good. His stubble brushes my cheek as he bends low and whispers “Missed you” into my ear.

I know he didn’t miss me. But the way he says it sounds almost sincere.

I don’t know if I missed him. I thought of him so much it bordered on obsessive. But that was me trying to figure myself out where he’s concerned.

Did I think of him? Yes.

We’ve been catapulted into this weird arrangement. Of course I think of him.

I stand on tiptoe and whisper back into his ear, “Missed you too.”

And when he tugs me close and pulls me into his strong embrace, I melt against his chest, and I know the truth.

I missed him.

I missed this.

And I want to kiss him—to really kiss him.

He chuckles softly and it rumbles through his chest, the chest I’m still being held against.

“Awww,” Carli coos from behind us. “Y’all are too cute.”

I gather my wits and step out of Marcus’s embrace before I act on my ridiculous urges.

Then I say, “Good game last night.”

He smiles at me. “Thanks, I figured you were watching. I would have called, but we went out to celebrate the win.”

“Were you up in your head?” I ask.

“A little,” he admits.

For a moment it feels like he really is my boyfriend, coming home from an away game, confiding in me, trusting me with his secrets.

Declan holds out a bag to Winona, and I’m grateful for the diversion.

She snatches it away and says, “You know you don’t have to bring me souvenirs every time you’re away.”

She’s already opening the bag, though, a big smile of anticipation on her face.

She pulls out a tin and hands Declan the bag. When she pops the top, she squeals. “It’s chocolate!”

“Not just chocolate,” Declan says. “These are the famous Berger’s cookies from Baltimore. Each one is hand dipped.”