Page 62 of After All This Time

"Come on, we both know 'one drink' is just something girls say when they mean three or four." His smile stretches wide, like he thinks he's being charming.

"Not this girl." I shake my head. "Not tonight."

Tate lets out a low chuckle, leaning back as though he's already planning his next move. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

I give him a polite smile, throw Rachel a quick wave, and head for the door before he can say anything else.

I find my car, slide into the driver's seat, and let out a breath. For a moment, I just sit there, my fingers resting on the wheel, knowing that going home means facing Tobias. But the moment I pull out of the parking lot, my foot's a little heavier on the gas than it needs to be. Because apparently, I'm that girl—the one who rushes home to a man she can't have after a mediocre 'date' with a man she doesn't want.

I walk into the apartment, the familiar scent of home wrapping around me, and as I step into the living room, Tobias turns his head in my direction. He's exactly where I knew he'd be, stretched out on the couch, bathed in the blue glow of whatever movie he's watching.

The energy in the room feels… different. Calmer. Like it used to be before everything got so complicated. It's a relief, but it also throws me off, and I can't decide if I love it or if it's giving me fucking whiplash.

"You're home early."

"Rachel took pity on my apparently exhausted ass." I head for the kitchen, spotting the pizza box like a peace offering on the counter. I'm not even hungry, but he thought of me. He ordered my favorite and waited up for me, and ignoring that effort feels wrong.

Walking back toward the couch, I catch the full view of Tobias. It's impossible not to notice him when he looks like some low-key thirst trap. His black T-shirt clings to him in all the right ways, and just like most other women on the planet, I go fucking feral for gray sweatpants, which the guy seems to live in when he's here at home.

I kick off my shoes and drop onto the couch beside him, the pizza box warming my lap. The scent of melted cheese and garlic fills the air, and suddenly, I'm starving—not just for food, but for this. For normalcy. For him.

"Food okay?" Tobias asks, not even glancing at me as I take a bite. His voice is so casual, so normal, that it almost feels like we're back to being us.

I nod, but before I can stop myself, a groan slips out that's way too dramatic for pizza. He glances at me, lips twitching like he's trying not to laugh. "You're ridiculous."

And then we're just… existing.

Sharing space and silence like we used to, before desire and denial complicated everything we were.

No awkwardness, no overthinking.

And for now, that's enough.

Just this.

Just us.

Chapter 24

Amelia

It's my first day at the Chicago Royal Ballet, and they've decided to start inductions on a Thursday because apparently, someone here hates order and common sense.

Who does that?

I'm such a Monday person—it's the start of the week, the clean slate, thelet's-get-our-shit-together day.

Today's basically a fancy guided tour masquerading as an induction. They've thrown the new recruits from both the dance company and the orchestra together, which means twice the awkward small talk.

After a couple of hours of being shuffled from one place to the next, I already wish I'd brought a second cup of coffee.

The tour started in the studios, a space so pristine it felt almost sacred. The polished floors gleamed under the overhead lights, while mirrors stretched across every wall, reflecting the nervous energy bouncing around the group. Further in, the rows of plush, red velvet seats cascaded down to the massive stage,where curtains draped thick and heavy. It's breathtaking in a way that makes your chest tighten—a little fear, a hell of a lot of excitement, and perhaps the slightest hint of imposter syndrome creeping in. But standing there, staring at that stage, it hit me that this is it. This is the place where everything I've been working toward will play out.

Harper, Logan, and I had set up a meeting spot since they've got an hour off, and I'm in no rush to head home. When I finally spot them, they're already standing, arms flailing wildly like a pair of drunk puppets, yelling my name at full volume as if I've gone missing.

"You two are embarrassing, you know that?" I say, but I'm fighting a smile because these idiots have somehow wormed their way into my heart.

"You realize I'm never going to greet you any other way now, right?"

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