Page 91 of The One Who Never Left: Colter

Not once.

The door swung shut behind her, the bell chiming softly, and something in Colter’s chest went sharp and hollow at the same time.

“Well?” Cheryl said quietly.

He dragged his eyes back to her, already knowing what he was going to see.

She was watching him with an expression that was calm, composed—and unmistakably perceptive.

“You have feelings for her,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

Colter straightened in his chair. “I don’t⁠—”

She raised a hand, not unkindly. “Colter.”

He stopped.

The truth sat heavy and uncooperative in his chest, refusing to be rearranged into something more polite. He exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

“I didn’t come here planning to⁠—”

“I know,” Cheryl said. Her voice softened. “That’s actually how I know.”

“How you know what?”

“That you didn’t intend for this to happen.” She offered a small, rueful smile. “Men who plan to be distracted don’t look nearly as startled when it catches up to them.”

He let out a short breath that might’ve been a laugh on another night. “I’m sorry. Truly. You didn’t deserve to be… whatever this is.”

“Collateral damage?” she offered lightly.

He winced. “That.”

She studied him for a long moment, then nodded once. “Thank you for saying that.”

They sat in silence, the sounds of the restaurant flowing around them—silverware clinking, someone laughing too loudly at a nearby table, the faint hum of music drifting from the bar.

Finally, Cheryl spoke again. “I had a feeling at the barbecue.”

His eyes lifted. “You did?”

“Mmhmm.” She tapped a finger against her wineglass. “The way you looked at her. Not obvious, exactly, but attentive, like the room recalibrated when she spoke.”

“I didn’t realize it was that obvious.”

“It wasn’t,” she said. “Not to everyone. Just to someone who’s been on enough first dates to recognize when she’s not actually the point.”

Guilt twisted in his gut. “Cheryl⁠—”

“I mean that kindly. Really, I should’ve trusted my instincts instead of talking myself out of them. That one’s on me.”

“I never meant to lead you on.”

“I know.” She smiled, warm and sincere this time. “And for what it’s worth, you’ve been nothing but respectful. That’s rare enough to count for something.” Her gaze drifted briefly toward the door Sutton had disappeared through. “There’s a lightness to her that is rare.”

“There is.”

“Protect that.”