Page 8 of Show Me

“That’s so sweet but I’ve got it handled.” She smiles again, then glances at Xavier, her hand brushing his arm like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” he says, easy.

Of course it’s easy. Why wouldn’t it be? There’s nothing complicated about this from his side. No expectations. No promises. No reason to think twice.

Lindsey heads toward the floor, and he follows, falling into step beside her like that’s always where he was going to be. Like there was never a moment in a hardware store where he offered anything else.

I’m an idiot. He saw someone over their head and helped. That’s it.

The binder blurs beneath my eyes. This is what it looks like when you don’t mean anything to someone.

A few minutes pass before he circles back. Alone this time. I don’t look up right away. Let him stand there. Petty? Maybe. Earned? Definitely.

“Hey.”

I flip a page, ignoring his warm, musky scent, mixed with sawdust and soap. “Hey.”

A beat passes between us.

“You get everything figured out?” Like we’re picking up a conversation that never started.

“Mostly.” I take a deep breath and steady my shoulders. It isn’t his fault I expected him. “Nothing fell off the walls yet, so I’m calling it a win.”

His mouth twitches, causing one dimple to pop for an instant before it’s gone. “That’s a low bar.”

“I like achievable goals.”

“Yeah.” Silence stretches. Not awkward. Just… empty. Like there should be something there, and there isn’t. “Anyway….” He takes a step back. “I’ve got to get my workout in so I can get back to the office.”

His attention drifts to the schedule board, then back again like he’s looking for something to say. “Busy?”

“Always.”

The phone rings, right on cue. I reach for it. He huffs a breath, almost to himself. “At least there’s someone here to answer the phones.”

“Still no office manager?”

“No.” He gives a self-deprecating chuckle and points at his chest as the phone trills again. “Just yours truly.”

“That must be rough.” I pick up the phone. “Iron House Fitness, this is Ruby.”

By then, he’s already turned away. Back on the floor. Back where he belongs. Like the other day didn’t happen.

I press the phone a little tighter to my ear, focusing on the voice on the other end. Schedules. Appointments. People who’ll do what they say they will.

“Thursday at six works.” I flip to the right page. “I’ll get you down.”

Because that’s what I do: I keep things running, even when everything else feels a little off.

Chapter Four

Xavier

The gym is the same as it always is. Warm. Loud. Predictable. Weights clanking. Music low. The steady rhythm of people moving through routines they don’t have to think about anymore.

Usually, it relaxes me. Today, it doesn’t.

I drop my bag near the bench and start stretching, rolling my shoulders back, loosening up. Same routine. Same order. Nothing complicated.