This doesn’t feel casual.
This is someone seeing something in me.
Someone investing in me as a friend in a way few in my life ever have.
Someone believing I’m more than a washed-up athlete with a half-broken body and a sick mom.
I run a hand through my hair, exhaling shakily.
“She just wants fun, Evans,” I mutter to myself. “She made that clear.”
I flip the packet closed.
But the truth cuts deeper:
She helped me in a way no one ever has.
And now?
I’m in trouble.
Serious, emotional, confused trouble.
Chapter Eleven
ELENA
Wednesday.
11:14 a.m.
My phone buzzes on my desk.
I’m mid-email, half-listening to someone in the hallway rant about Q4 metrics, when I glance down.
Colt: Thank you.
I blink.
Then another bubble appears.
Colt: You’re right, btw. Let’s just stay friends.Workouts only.Things could get way too complicated if not.
My stomach dips so fast it’s dizzying.
Oh.
Oh.
I set my phone face-down, very slowly, like it’s fragile.
Workouts only.
He wants to be…friends. Because this could get complicated.
Right. Fine.Perfect.
My chest tightens.
