Page 32 of Cross Check Hearts

“This is for you,” the guy says and hands the bag to me.

As I take it from him, my first thought is that Stevie must have sent it since she knew I wouldn’t have time to get food, but when I glance at the receipt taped to the outside of the bag, I spot a little note printed at the bottom of it.

You can’t burn calories you don’t eat. Hope this makes your day better!

– D.M.

My heart does a little flip as I read and then re-read the note. I laugh and shake my head as the delivery guy leaves the studio. Part of me can’t believe Declan really remembered what I said yesterday about forgetting to eat and thought ahead to send me a fresh Mediterranean grain bowl with grilled chicken from the health-focused café near campus. But another part of me isn’t surprised. He remembered my favorite drink, after all.

Still, the fact that he thought to order me food at all just because he wanted to make my day better sends warmth spreading through my chest. It’s such a small gesture, but it feels enormous.

When was the last time someone paid such close attention to my needs?

And he didn’t just send any food—he somehow guessed exactly the kind of thing I’d actually eat. Clean protein, healthy grains, nothing that would leave me feeling sluggish before teaching back-to-back yoga classes. Either he’s incredibly observant or we’re more in sync than I want to admit.

When the fresh, herbal scent reaches my nose, my stomach growls immediately. I take the food back to the little office so that I can scarf it down in the time I have left before class starts.

While I’m there, I can’t stop myself from pulling my phone out of my purse.

His text from last night is still on my lock screen. I haven’t dismissed it because I’ve been wanting to reply, but I haven’t been sure what to say. Reading the text again now, a smile curves my lips.

DECLAN: I meant what I said. Nothing that’s happened between us has been a mistake.

The words still make my pulse quicken, just like they did last night when they first appeared on my screen.

When I finish eating, I use the hand sanitizer in my purse to clean up my hands and tap on his message to answer, then hit the camera button and snap a picture of the nearly clean bowl with a few quinoa grains and a cucumber slice remaining.

ME: Calories acquired. Now time to burn them. *fire emoji* Thank you!

The message switches over to read almost as soon as I send it, and the three dots animation appears on the screen as Declan types out a reply.

DECLAN: Anytime. Was it cold by the time it got there?

ME: Nope, nice and fresh. So make sure you tip the delivery guy well.

DECLAN: I always do. So how did your test go?

I chew on my lip while I debate what to tell him. I don’t want him to think I’m flunking or anything, but I don’t want to lie either.

ME: It went okay. I probably could’ve done better, but I gave it what I had.

DECLAN: Even after all that studying?

ME: I guess it wasn’t enough. The test covered a lot more material than I was prepared for.

DECLAN: Well, I’m sure there will be other chances to make up for it.

DECLAN: But speaking of being a bad student, I tried some of the poses you showed me this morning to stretch out my hips.

The unbidden image of Declan in workout clothes, his powerful body moving through yoga poses, sends heat rushing to my cheeks.

ME: Sounds like it didn’t go well?

DECLAN: Jury’s out. But do I at least get a gold star for being a good student?

ME: *star emoji*

DECLAN: Thanks, teach.

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