“Now I understand why he drew the line,” I admit.“Especially since I’ve found myself in a very dangerous situation.”I blow out a sigh.“It feels surreal, looking back, that we were perfect in every other way and we still couldn’t compromise on the one thing that mattered most.”
“Sounds like you still care,” Anna says simply.
My throat tightens again, and I hate it.I hate how easily his name rearranges me.“He was the love of my life and I let him go.”
Anna’s expression softens.“Maybe you didn’t let him go.Maybe you both needed to become different people first.”
I shake my head faintly, because hope is a dangerous drug.“I don’t think this is some second-chance romance, Anna.I intend to keep my career, and Cole… Cole is still Cole.He still frets over me.”
“That was five years ago,” she says, not unkindly.“You’re different now.He’s different too.People don’t go through life in this line of work and stay the same.”
I want to argue.I want to insist I know how this ends, because control is safer than possibility.But before I can, movement shifts my attention.
Cole walks into the community area from the gym corridor and for a second, everything in me stills like my body has recognized him before my mind can do anything about it.
He’s sweaty, shirt clinging to him, forearms corded as he drags a towel across the back of his neck.His hair is damp, his face scruffy with the kind of roughness that makes him look less polished and more dangerous, and the sight of him hits me with a jolt I refuse to name as anything other than irritation.
He stops when he sees me seated at the counter, and surprise flickers across his face before it hardens into alertness.“You’re up,” he says, voice low, eyes scanning me like he’s making sure I’m intact.
“I found something,” I say immediately, because if I don’t lead with work, I’ll lead with feelings, and I’m not ready to be that exposed.“In the financials.RainVest has repeated payments to an outfit called Strategic Asset Protection Group, and the dates line up exactly with the red flag advisories and ignition windows.It’s too precise to be coincidence.”
His entire demeanor shifts, his expression alert but hardening.“Show me.”
“I will,” I promise.“And I also need to go into my office today.I need to meet with my editor and bring him up to date.He’s going to want to know why I’ve vanished.”
“Just a visit,” he says with a level of high-handedness I don’t bother arguing against.“Gather whatever you need to continue working here.”
“Agreed,” I say, hoping to appease him.“I won’t be gone more than an hour.”
“I’ll drive you,” Cole corrects me.
“I figured you’d say that,” I mutter.
He ignores it.“Let me shower.”
“I need one too,” I blurt, because my brain chooses idiocy when I’m flustered.The words register as the corner of Cole’s mouth lifts and heat floods my face.“I mean—separately.Not together.Obviously.”
Anna makes a quiet sound that might be a laugh, but she covers it by turning back to the pantry.
Cole’s mouth curves fully, slow and satisfied, like he’s enjoying watching me trip over myself.“Be ready in thirty,” he says, already turning away.
I blink.“Thirty?”
He glances back over his shoulder, smirk deepening.“You’ve got thirty.”
“I need an hour!”I call after him, panic and indignation tangling.
He doesn’t stop walking, but his voice carries back, warm with amusement.“Make it a quick hour.”
He disappears down the hall toward his apartment, and I stand there for a moment, cheeks hot, pulse entirely unhelpful.When I look back at Anna, she’s leaning on the counter, eyes bright with knowing.It makes me want to both laugh and flee.
“Second chances,” she says lightly.
I shake my head, but the denial feels thin even to me.“This isn’t—”
“Sure,” she says again, the same gentle skepticism she had earlier.“Go shower, Tessa.Try not to overthink everything.”
Overthinking is my profession, but I don’t say that.
