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This time I didn't fight it. I let myself think about Harper in that dress, defiant and furious and so beautiful it hurt to look at her. The way she'd tilted her chin up when she challenged me, refusing to be intimidated by the height difference or my anger or anything else. The fire in her eyes when she'd called me out, when she'd refused to let me hide behind professionalism and privacy. The way she'd looked when Mia made excuses for her, raw and real and humiliated, refusing to be diminished or protected or treated like she needed either.

The way she'd looked at me like I mattered beyond the game. Like my choices had weight. Like the person I was—or could be, or should be—was worth fighting about.

Nobody had looked at me like that in years. Like I was more than Captain Russo, more than a point guard or a leader or a brand. Like I was a person worth arguing with, worth calling out, worth getting angry at.

Worth seeing.

I fell asleep sometime after three, Harper's words following me down into dreams I wouldn't remember.

You're hiding who you really are.

Yeah. I was.

And for the first time in twelve years, I was starting to wonder what it would cost to stop. What I'd find if I peeled back all the layers of performance and professionalism and fear.

Who I might be if I was brave enough to find out.

Who I might be if I let someone like Harper see me.

5

This Is Not Flirting

Harper

I spent forty-five minutes drafting a text to Cameron Russo like I was negotiating a peace treaty with a hostile nation.

Deleted it.

Rewrote it.

Deleted it again.

Considered faking my own death instead.

Eventually settled on:

Harper

Hey, it's Harper. Got your number from Isla. About the dinner - I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things about privacy and authenticity. It was out of line and none of my business.

I hit send before I could overthink it, which was a minor miracle considering I'd already overthought it into the ground, dug it back up, and overthought it again for good measure.

Three dots appeared almost immediately. Disappeared. Appeared again. My heart was doing a very inappropriate stripper dance in my chest, which was annoying because I didn't care what she said. I absolutely did not care.

Cam

Thanks. I'm sorry too. For the tunnel, and for what I said at dinner. I was defensive and took it out on you.

Oh. Well. That was unexpectedly mature.

Harper

So we're good?

Cam

We're good. For the sake of our friends, let's just move forward.