Page 125

I don’t deny it.

“There is. But you don’t need that part. You just need the truth. And that’s what I gave you.”

She swivels back around, eyes like knives again. “You think this will last? You’re not exactly known for sticking around.”

“I’m known for showing the hell up when it matters.” I meet her stare, hard and sure. “And this matters.”

There’s a long pause before she sighs, like she’s already mapping my fallout coverage.

“Fine. You’re off the promo circuit. No more cute date nights or Q&As about your ‘tough guy charm.’ But if this implodes, and the press turns it into a circus, I’m dragging your ass into every puff piece we have left.”

I smirk. “I’ll bring my own glitter.”

I leave before she changes her mind. And the second I step into the hallway, something inside me loosens. Like I’ve finally shrugged off a second skin I didn’t realize was suffocating me.

But this isn’t the conversation that matters.

That one’s waiting down the hall behind a door with her name on it.

Katarina Novak. Canyon Bay Cyclones Team Nutritionist.

This time, I knock.

“Come in,” she calls.

She’s at her desk, eyes on her screen,banana half-eaten granola spilled like she forgot she was human halfway through breakfast. Her gaze flicks up and lands on me—and that shift happens. Always does.

The world quiets. Just her. Always just her.

“Hey,” she says. “You’re not on my schedule today.”

“Nope.” I close the door and step inside.

Something in her expression tightens. “Is everything okay?”

I don’t answer right away. Just walk around her desk and rest my hip against the edge like I’ve done it a hundred times. Like I haven’t spent the last few weeks walking around with her under my skin.

“I went to see Riley. Told her we’re done. No more PR couple bullshit.”

Her mouth parts slightly, eyes going wide. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious.” I reach for her hand, cover it with mine. “Told her I’m done pretending. I’m not playing dress-up for the press anymore. Not when what we’ve got is real.”

She relaxes a little, but I can see it—she’s still scanning me for signs this is temporary. That I’ll flinch and fold when it gets real.

“But that’s not why I came.”

She tilts her head, voice wary. “No?”

I shake mine, heart punching inside my chest.

“I can’t be patient anymore, Kat.”

She stills. No blinking. No breathing.

“I said I’d wait while you figured out what you wanted. And I meant it. But I’m standing here, looking at you, and I know what I want. I’ve alwaysknown. And I’m done pretending I don’t.”

She doesn’t move. Just stares like she’s waiting for me to rip the floor out.