Page 71 of Redeeming Melodies

"Both." The admission came quiet. "There's this small town, and... there's this guy."

"A guy?" Delaney's coffee cup froze halfway to his mouth, genuine surprise crossing his weathered face. "Well shit, kid. That's... new."

"Yeah." I ran a hand through my hair, nervous like some fucking teenager. "Wasn't exactly planning it. But this town, Oakwood Grove - it's different. He's different."

"A small town guy, huh?" His eyebrows climbed higher, but there was no judgment in his voice. Just that steady acceptance he'd always given me. "You never did do anything halfway."

"Nothing's happened." Except that was a lie now, wasn't it? That kiss under the stars definitely counted as something.

"But you want it to." It wasn't a question. "That why you're really here? Running from feelings instead of racing toward them?"

"When did you get so fucking philosophical?" But he was right, and we both knew it.

"Got a race next month." He said it casual, like he was commenting on the weather. "Nothing major, just a charity event. Could use a name driver to draw crowds."

The offer hung between us. A chance to dip my toes back in, prove to the court I wasn't having some breakdown. Show Vanessa I could have both - my career and a life that mattered.

"Think about it." Delaney stood, old joints creaking. "Meantime, might want to talk to this guy of yours. Running away's never been your style, kid."

"Don't have his number." The admission felt childish. "Never got around to asking."

Delaney's laugh filled the office. "And they say romance is dead. Get your ass back to that town, Blue. Some things are worth the risk."

The showerat the track didn't really wash away the morning, but at least I felt human again. Zayn's office sat in one of those converted warehouse spaces downtown - all exposed brick and steel beams trying very hard to look effortless. Kind of like Zayn himself, come to think of it.

Zayn was waiting in his office doorway, arms crossed over a shirt that probably cost more than most people's rent. His smile was genuine though - always had been, even back when we were both chasing different kinds of victories.

"Holy shit, it really is you." He pulled me into one of those half-hug, half-headlock things that guys do when they've known each other too long to pretend they're not happy to see each other. "Thought you'd fallen off the face of the earth."

"Something like that." The office screamed success - design awards on the walls, photos of houses in magazines I pretended to read at doctor's offices. "Place looks good, Z."

"Better than sweating it out in a gym, that's for sure." He gestured to his shoulder - the one that ended his boxing career but launched this whole empire. "Coffee? Or something stronger?"

"Coffee's good." My hands still smelled like rubber and metal from the track. "Need my head clear for this."

He studied me as he poured from some fancy machine that looked like it belonged in a science lab. "Heard about the custody shit. That's rough, man."

"Yeah." The coffee tasted expensive, but at least it was real. Not that fake artisan crap Vanessa used to insist on. "That's kind of why I'm here, actually."

"The house?" His eyebrow went up as he settled behind his desk. "Gotta say, never pictured you as the settling down type. Always figured you'd keep chasing that next win until they had to pry the steering wheel from your cold, dead hands."

The laugh came out more bitter than I meant it to. "Yeah, well. Some things matter more than winning."

"Tommy?"

"He needs roots." The words came easier than I expected. "Kid's been bouncing between hotel rooms and Vanessa's parade of apartments since the split. Deserves somewhere that's just... his, you know?"

Zayn nodded, pulling out a tablet. "Tell me about this place then. What are we working with?"

So I did. Told him about the ocean view and the wraparound porch that needed replacing. About the yard that was practically begging for a treehouse and maybe a garden, if I could figure out how not to kill plants. About the built-in bookshelves whereTommy could display his science projects without anyone telling him they didn't match the decor.

"His room faces the water." My voice went soft, remembering Tommy's face when he first saw it. "Gets the morning sun, but not too early. And there's this perfect climbing tree right outside his window."

"You've really thought about this." Zayn's fingers flew over his tablet, sketching as I talked. "What about the rest of the house? Master bedroom? Kitchen?"

Right. Because this wasn't just about Tommy. This was about me too - about making a real home for the first time since I left my parents' place at eighteen to chase speed dreams.

"Kitchen needs work." I stared into my coffee like it might hold answers. "Want something open, you know? Where I can see Tommy doing homework while I cook. Where people can just... be."

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