“Your father was nice enough to have Dr. Shoup check on me after the Nutmeg debacle,” Eslin says smoothly, stepping forward with the kind of calm confidence that makes it seem like she’s been waiting for the perfect moment to step in and save me.
Marlow nods slowly, her eyes flicking between us, suspicion softening just enough to let the tension break. That seems to settle it. For now.
I glance at Eslin. She’s already looking at me.
I mouth,Thank you.
She doesn’t respond. Just gives me that small, knowing curve of her lips that somehow manages to both rescue me and gut me at the same time.
I owe her.
And I’d do anything to repay that debt. Anything she’d let me.
Marlow gets up and stretches, heading toward the private bathroom off the corner of her office. “You people are so dramatic, I swear,” she throws over her shoulder like nothing just happened.
I turn to Eslin the second the door shuts behind her. My voice low. “What happened? How did she collapse?”
She steps closer, and the moment her hand touches my chest—soft, steady, grounding—I forget how to breathe. The contact is small, but it feels like someone just lit a match in my bloodstream.
“I think you should talk to her,” she says, professionally.Tooprofessional. “I was heading out to the field when it happened. She passed out right in front of me. Scared the hell out of me, too. But she’s okay. The doctor was clear.”
I nod, even though my brain is working overtime just to stay focused on her words. I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t. But I do it anyway—I cover her hand with mine, press my palm to hers, locking us together for just one second longer than appropriate.
“Don’t get me wrong, Eslin,” I murmur, my voice rough with everything I shouldn’t be feeling, “I’m so fucking grateful you were here for her.”
Here for me, I don’t say.
I let out a tortured, humorless laugh. “But I hate that you’re here right now.”
Her brows pull together, lips parting slightly. “Why?”
I swallow hard. “Because—”
The door to Marlow’s bathroom swings open and in an instant, the moment shatters.
Our hands fall apart like they were never joined. We both take a step back, sharp and instinctive, like kids caught in the middle of something we knew we shouldn’t be doing.
Because that’s exactly what it was.
And still, when she’s near me, every line I’ve drawn starts to blur.
Every rule I’ve sworn to follow starts to feel like a dare.
Eslin doesn’t look at me. Not right away. She shifts, adjusting the tank top strap on her shoulder like the weight of what just passed between us needs somewhere to go.
And all I can do is try to remember how to act normal. How to breathe through the insanity she stirs in me with just a touch. A look. A breath too close to mine.
I shift, turning my attention back to Marlow. “You sure you good, Munch?”
“I won’t be if you keep calling me that!” she fires back, full of attitude and color again.
“Okay, okay,” I say, hands in the air like I’m under arrest.
“Well, since you’re fine, Low, I’ll leave you for the rest of the game. See you tomorrow?”
“Thanks, Daddy. See you tomorrow. I’m making eggplant parmesan.”
She perks up like a cartoon light bulb just flicked on above her head. “Oooh!Eslin!You should come! You keep saying you don’t have any family or friends here. Join us for dinner!”