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“Colt,” she whispers. “What if you were my boyfriend?”

Every muscle in my body goes still.

“Really?” My voice comes out lower than I intend. “You’d want that?”

She nods—barely—but it’s enough to knock the breath right out of my chest.

“If you would,” she adds, quieter.

I sit up a little, smirking because otherwise I might start feeling things too fast.

“Did you just ask me tobe your boyfriend?” I tease. “I thought we were keeping this casual.”

She laughs weakly, then meets my eyes—and this time she doesn’t look away.

“This stopped being casual for me a long time ago.”

Fuck.

Something hits me right in the center of my ribs.

Heavy but good.

And also, a little terrifying.

I exhale. “When’s the flight?”

“Next Monday.”

My stomach drops.

Damn.

Of course.

“Oh,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “I, uh… start football on Tuesday.”

Her head jerks up. “Football?”

“Yeah.” I let out a breath. “Semi-pro team reached out. Saw my old highlights. Asked me to come try out. I wasn’t going to tell you yet, but…I got the offer.”

Her eyes widen.

“Colt. That’s incredible. What about personal training?”

“Oh, Damien fired me.”

“What?”

“It’s kinda because of you,” I admit, looking down.

“I’m so, so sorry.” She puts her hand on her heart.

“No, I don’t care about that job anyway. I mean it’s because of you that I’ve got interest in a new football gig. You pushed me. Believed in me. You made me think maybe I wasn’t done.”

Her expression softens in a way that makes my heart thump unevenly.

“Well…that’s too bad, then,” she murmurs, trying to mask disappointment but not doing a great job. “I mean, too bad you start next Monday. Happy that you got a new gig though.”