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“I learned pretty quick nobody’s coming to save you unless somebody decides you matter enough.” His gaze locks onto mine fully now. “So I came home.”

Something shifts heavily between us.

Not lust.

Not tension.

Something deeper.

“And now you protect people here,” I say softly.

“Women. Kids.” He shrugs one shoulder. “Anyone who needs it.”

“That’s why you noticed me so fast.”

His expression turns unreadable. “Yeah.”

“Because you recognized the signs.”

“I recognized fear hidden under attitude.”

I glare at him automatically. “I do not hide behind attitude.”

“You absolutely do.”

“I’m a journalist. We’re naturally confrontational.”

“You’re scared to need people.”

The words hit so hard I actually stop breathing for a second.

Rhett watches my reaction carefully.

Too carefully.

“That’s not fair,” I say quietly.

“Didn’t say it was wrong.”

God.

I look away first.

Because suddenly this conversation feels too intimate in a way that has nothing to do with attraction.

“You know what your problem is?” I mutter.

“Several things probably.”

“You see too much.”

A slow smile finally pulls at his mouth.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “So do you.”

Silence stretches between us again, but it’s different now.

Warmer.