Page 26 of Click of Fate

I let the insult slide. Mostly because I’m not sure he’s wrong. I wouldn’t call it a spiral, per se, but it’s something.

Shaking my head, I tell him about seeing her again. “She didn’t seem rattled. Cool as ever. Camera in hand, all business. Like she’d never had her hands in my hair or moaned my name.”

Alex whistles low and wipes down the bar.

“She’s a runner, huh?”

I smirk, remembering Ruth’s comment. “Apparently.”

“And you, my friend, are already planning how to climb right after her.”

I don’t say anything. Just take another sip of whiskey and stare into the glass. Because the truth is, I don’t know what I’m doing yet. But if she’s running, part of me wants to see what happens if I don’t let go.

Not yet.

I order a smash burger and fries—my favorite items on the menu—and settle in for a dinner at the bar. There’s a large TV behind the bar that’s playing highlights from the Renegades team over the weekend. The team has a new quarterback, Cash Winters, and I really like the guy. Rock climbing might be my passion, but football was my first love. I played while growing up, and I was on track for a D1 scholarship, but at the end of my junior year, I experienced a nasty ACL tear. Surgery and a long road to recovery caused my college offers to disappear almost overnight. That’s when Ray stepped in and helped me focus on a new path while I rehabbed.

While that life as a college football star and possible pro baller crosses my mind sometimes, it’s not something I dwell on. I still love the game and enjoy following the local teams. I’m going to have to get to a home game this season. Or next. Who knows if I’ll have the time.

Alex keeps busy while I eat, stopping by to chat every so often. He’s got a great staff and doesn’t need to work behind the bar, but he likes to a few times a week. He says it keeps him humble.

Finishing my food, I push the plate away and drink some of the water he dropped by with my food.

Alex wipes down the bar in a lazy figure-eight, his expression shifting just enough for me to know he’s got something to say and isn’t sure if he’s going to say it. We’re moving into territory he’s been waiting to poke at.

He clears his throat, like he doesn’t already have my attention. "Look, just... be careful."

I know what’s he talking about. I know he’s not done talking about this fate shit. I raise a brow, half-amused. “What? You think I’m gonna fall for her?”

"I think you don’t know hownotto. And the last time you got wrapped up in someone, you werethis closeto putting a ring on her finger.” Alex pins me with a look of warning.

My jaw tightens before I can stop it. That name’s been dancing at the edge of this conversation since I walked in, and now he’s let it fall.

“That was different.”

“Was it?”

He sets the glass down and leans on the bar with both elbows. No grin now. No smugness. Just the quiet concern of someone who’s watched me go all-in once before and come out scraped raw.

“Claire still left., whether you were ready or not. And word is, she’s coming back to the Midwest.”

I blink once. That old ache stirs in my ribs like a bruise I thought had faded.

“I hadn’t heard that,” I say mostly to myself.

“Didn’t think you had. Figured you'd want to know before she shows up at your front door—or your gym—with a thousand ideas and that look that used to get you to say yes to anything.”

I exhale slowly and rub a hand over my face. I don’t want to think about Claire. I don’t want to remember how close we came to building something permanent. Or how easily she walked away when I hesitated too long.

She said I made her wait. That I was so caught up in growing the business that she got tired of being second. She wasn’t wrong. But she also never said she was unhappy—not until she already had one foot out the door.

Stella? She walked away like it meant nothing.

Claire left with a plan.

And somehow, that cuts deeper.

“Claire’s the past. That door’s closed,” I tell him.

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