Page 106 of Shots & Echoes

I felt it like a goddamn pulse, like an ache in my ribs that wouldn’t settle no matter how much I tried to push it down.

The second the last voice faded into silence, I turned toward the locker room.

I pushed open the door, leaning against the frame, arms crossed over my chest. The air inside was thick, heavy, like it carried the weight of everything we weren’t saying.

She sat on the bench in front of her locker, lacing up her shoes with a focus so sharp it made my blood boil. Like I wasn’t even standing there. Like she hadn’t felt it too.

I shoved the locker room door shut behind me; the slam echoing off the walls like a gunshot. The sound sealed us in—cutting us off from the rest of the world.

Just me and her now.

Iris’s head snapped up, her breath catching for a split second before her expression hardened. Surprise flickered into something hotter—anger, maybe. Humiliation.

I didn’t give a damn.

“What the hell was that yesterday?” My voice came out low, edged in something I barely had the energy to disguise.

She stiffened, but didn’t look up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Bullshit.

My jaw ticked, frustration curling up my spine as I pushed off the doorframe, closing the space between us.

“Don’t play games with me, Evans.”

Her fingers froze on her laces. Just for a second. Just long enough for me to see it—the hesitation, the crack in her armor before she smoothed it over again.

“I’m not playing games.”

It was quiet. Too quiet.

I took another step, crowding her space, drinking in the way her breath hitched, the way her throat bobbed when she swallowed hard.

Liar.

“Don’t play dumb, Evans.” My voice came out rough, sharp edges laced with something darker.Something possessive.“You glared fucking daggers into Sloane all morning.”

Her jaw clenched. The fire in her eyes burned brighter, and I felt it like a hit to the gut. “So what?” she snapped. “You liked it, didn’t you? Watching her flirt with you. Watching me squirm.”

A slow smirk curved my lips—dark, twisted—because she was right. And she fucking knew it.

Her breath hitched, fury crackling off her like a live wire. “You’re a fucking asshole, Callahan.”

I stepped closer, invading her space, letting her feel the weight of what was happening between us. The thing she kept pretending didn’t exist.

“Yeah?” My voice dropped lower, threading through the thick tension between us. “And you’re a goddamn liar.”

She went still, but I caught it—the flicker of something deeper beneath her defiance, the quick rise and fall of her chest.

“I’m not lying,” she gritted out.

“You think I don’t see you?” I pressed in, barely an inch between us now. “Running to Langley like a fucking safety net every time you get scared ofthis?”

Her hands shot up, shoving my chest—hard—but I didn’t move. Didn’t fucking blink. If anything, it only made me hungrier.

“Get out of my face,” she snapped.

“Make me.”