I take it reluctantly.
On the screen is a text thread to Reece. Our boss. The timestamp reads frombeforethe livestream started.
Cole:I get it now. Impact, not noise. I’m bowing out. Ivy’s the right call. She’s the one you want.
Reece:You sure?
Cole:Never been more sure of anything in my life.
I read it.
I read it again slower.
The words don’t change. They just sit there, factual and devastating, with a timestamp that does not lie.
“Wait.” I meet his eyes. “You did this?”
Cole pulls his shirt on, ruffles his damp hair, and steps into my space. His hand finds mine, threadingour fingers together as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“To be clear,” he says with uncharacteristic sincerity. “You didn’t win because I stepped aside. I stepped aside because you won. That is not the same thing. I need that big brain of yours to understand that.”
I’m dumbfounded. My mouth is open, but no sound is coming out.
Because… what?!
That’s not how this works.
That’s not how people work.
“And no, I didn’t do that to win you,” he adds, thumb brushing over my knuckles. “But if it gets me a shot? I’ll take it. Because you’re all I think about. Every damn second.”
“Are you sure? About me?” I hear myself say. “I’m a lot. Like, alot. There’s probably somebody less high maintenance.”
“There is no one like you, Stopwatch.”
And then he kisses me.
This kiss isn’t desperate or playful. It’s a declaration. It burrows into my bones and marks me as his.
When I finally pull free, my mental checklists are firing. “So then what are we? I mean, I can do casual. Casual is fine. I just need to wrap my head around the parameters and the logistical boundaries—”
“Ivy.” He stops me with certainty. “This ain’t casual. I just got you back. There’s no chance in hell I’m walking away. Get used to me.”
He leans in to kiss me again, when—
“INCOMING!” Blaze’s voice booms across the deck, his camera swinging wildly as he captures the moment. “FAM! FAM! OH MY GOD! The most EPIC reunion EVER CAPTURED! Get ready to LOSE YOUR MINDS!”
We turn.
The dinghy bumps the hull as Sienna lifts the pup onto the deck. Its paws hit the teak with a thud, and a sharp, panickedbark rips through the air. The mother, swaddled in blankets, raises her head slowly, then suddenly, as if that sound belongs only to her.
The crew parts, silent. My grip tightens on Cole’s arm as the little one stumbles forward, its flippers slapping against the wood. Mother and baby meet in a tangle of flippers and cries, the baby pressing into her side. She nuzzles him fiercely, her muffled barks thick with relief.
Don’t cry, Ivy. Blink it back. Stay professional.
Cole swipes at his face and shrugs. “What? It’s emotional. I’ve got feelings. Sue me.”
I huff out a laugh. “Honestly? I’m realizing there’s way more to you than I thought, Hartwell.”
