Page 35 of Bar Down

"Especially knowing them." His gaze on hers never wavered. "Reed will target me regardless. The only question is whether we face him separately or together."

"Okay," she said finally. "But we do this my way—with zero unnecessary risks."

"Define unnecessary," he challenged.

"Don't push it, Spreadsheets." But the exhaustion in her voice had been replaced by something warmer.

“We’ll keep our distance in public. But in private...” he moved in closer.

A knock interrupted them. Kane's head appeared around the door, grinning.

"Sorry to interrupt whatever's happening here," he said, not looking remotely sorry, "but bus back to the hotel leaves in fifteen. Unless you two have other transportation plans?" The suggestive tone earned him a glare from Stephanie.

"We'll be on the bus," she assured him.

Kane's knowing smile was aggravating, but he retreated without comment. When the door closed, Stephanie turned back to Marcus.

"We need to keep a low profile in public from now on, to keep off of Reed’s radar. But I’m still going with you to dinner tomorrow at Amara's.”

"I expect a full report on whatever she told you about me," Marcus said, grabbing his bag.

"Not a chance." Stephanie stepped closer, her voice dropping. "She showed me your baby pictures, by the way."

"She always deploys those for maximum tactical advantage." He shook his head.

Stephanie cut off his analysis with a sudden shift forward, rising onto her toes and pressing her lips to his.

The kiss was quick, but decisive—like a firecracker going off in a quiet lab. It short-circuited Marcus’s brain, disrupting the thread of logic mid-sentence. By the time he caught up to the sensation—soft lips, warm breath, the faint taste of cinnamon gum—his hand had already found her waist, steadying them both as instinct overrode calculation.

She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her face still so close he could feel the tickle of her breath brushing his skin. Her eyes searched his, steady, sure. “That’s for the win tonight,” she murmured. “And for having my back with Reed.”

He studied her like she was a formula he couldn’t quite solve. A flush bloomed along her cheekbones.

“This isn’t how professional allies typically celebrate a win,” he said, though his voice came out rougher than he intended—scraped raw by desire and something dangerously close to hope.

“I’m improvising.” Her smile was genuine this time, stripped of spin and strategy. Unscripted. “Problem?”

Marcus didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned in and kissed her with intention. Slower. Deeper.

She responded without hesitation. Her body pressed against his, heat meeting heat, and the world around them narrowed to nothing but contact. Her mouth moved with his, confident but searching, and he felt his carefully ordered thoughts begin to unravel.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing harder.

“We should go,” she whispered, her voice unsteady as she stepped back, eyes still locked on his. “Kane will send a search party.”

Marcus nodded, forcing his hand to fall away from her waist. But as they walked toward the locker room door, her posture had changed. Subtle, but unmistakable. Less tension in her shoulders. A quiet ease in her stride. The armor she wore so well had cracked—just enough to let him see the woman beneath.

And that changed everything.

This wasn't just a shared mission anymore. It was trust. Connection. A shift in variables he hadn’t accounted for—one that couldn’t be graphed or predicted. But he didn’t want to walk it back.

As they stepped into the corridor, falling into a more measured distance for any curious eyes, Marcus felt the familiar ache of a hard-fought hockey win settle deep in his bones. But this time, it mingled with the warmth of Stephanie’s kiss and the dangerous thrill of wanting more.

For the first time since joining the Chill, the game wasn’t the most interesting thing in his life.

And for once, he didn’t need numbers to know that felt exactly right.

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