Page 79 of Almost Ours
I dropped my bag next to the chair and slid into the seat across from him. “That wasyourfault. You made me do Shane’s crazy workout.”
“My fault?” He leaned forward, feigning innocence. “Werescuedyou. You were doing those half-hearted lunges like someone avoiding leg day.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I was pacing myself. Didn’t realize I was about to be drafted into a boot camp.”
Then I smirked. “Also–how would you even know my lunges were half-hearted? Were you watching me, Coach?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “Purely for quality control.”
“Mmhmm,” I said, leaning back. “Pretty sure I caught you staring when I was doing deadlifts, too.”
His grin turned wolfish. “Can you blame me?”
I laughed, resting my elbows on the table. “My quads may never recover. I’m filing a formal complaint.”
“With who? Shane? He’ll frame it.”
“You,” I said, pointing at him. “You’re his accomplice.”
Ryan leaned back, smug. “Guilty. I have to say, though, you did nearly crush him with that medicine ball throw. I’ve never been prouder.”
“I wasn’t aiming,” I deadpanned.
“Sure you weren’t.” His eyes sparkled as he sipped his drink. “Still. You were kind of badass out there.”
I rolled my eyes, not stopping the smile that tugged at my lips. “You’re just saying that because I didn’t puke.”
“That too,” he said with a wink. “But mostly because you made it through. That workout would’ve killed most people.”
I snorted. “Good to know I’ve met your standard for survival.”
His grin softened slightly, gaze lingering. “More than that.”
And for a moment, everything felt still–buzzing quietly with something unspoken.
“I think we’ve been stood up,” I said, glancing at my phone.
Ryan sipped his smoothie and smirked. “Fine by me. I kind of like having you all to myself.”
My heart skipped.
“You always this smooth?” I asked, arching a brow.
His smile deepened. “Only when it works.”
I snorted, the heat rising to my cheeks betraying me. “Well, don’t get cocky. I haven’t decided if it’s working yet.”
“Oh, it’s working,” he said, gaze dropping to my mouth for just a second–quick, but unmistakable.
My breath hitched.
He noticed.
The shift was subtle, and everything slowed.
Ryan leaned in, just a little. Not enough to draw attention, but enough that I felt it. The air between us tightened, the rest of the cafe falling away until it was just the two of us. His smoothie sat untouched, forgotten, while his forearms rested on the table like he needed the anchor. His fingers twitched near mine–hovering, unsure, like he was fighting some internal war.
“Harper…”
