The momentwe get back home, Courtney heads straight toward the stairs. She’s still partly dazed from the nap she had on the way home from the restaurant the team and some staff met up at after we left Disneyland. Coach left early which made it easy to get Courtney back in my car. She was out like a light before long.
Now she’s trudging up each step like it’s a marathon all on its own, and I’m right there next to her.
No talk. No extra words.
I tell myself to let her go.
To call it a day when we get to the elevators.
But I’m getting in the elevator with her before I even know what I’m doing. Samson’s leash loose in my grip, the little guy’s excited like he knows exactly where we’re headed.Home.
Courtney turns as the lift comes to a stop. "You stalking me again?"
I cock a brow. “You gonna file a report?”
She smirks while she backs out. “Maybe. Might include something about how you scream like a baby onThunder Mountain.”
“I didn’t scream.”
“Sure. That wasn’t you high-pitched shrieking beside me.”
I flash her a grin. “You're imagining things, Bambi.”
Her mouth twitches at the nickname, but she doesn’t stop walking. She unlocks her door. Pushes it open. Hesitates.
Then she glances over her shoulder.
“Want to come in for a little?”
I nod once. Follow her in without a word.
Courtney disappears down the hall, and I take a seat on the couch, flipping through the book on the coffee table to see where she’s at. Samson hops up beside me, spinning in a circle before flopping down with a contented huff.
The apartment smells like her.
Sweet. Clean. Something citrusy and warm lingers in the background as I lean back on her couch like it’s mine.
Because some part of me is starting to wish it was. That I didn’t have to leave.
Ten minutes later, Courtney walks out—hair damp, skin flushed, wearing tiny shorts and a t-shirt that’s too many sizes too big.
“Sorry, I was all sweaty and gross from today.”
My throat tightens as she pads barefoot into the kitchen like it’s nothing. Like I’m not burning a hole in the cushion just trying to keep my hands to myself.
“I have popsicles,” she says over her shoulder, grabbing the freezer door.
I stand. Cross the room in two strides with Samson hot on my heels.
Courtney turns. Eyes widening when she finds me in front of her.
Close.
Too close.
“I had fun today,” she murmurs like she doesn’t know what else to say.
“Yeah, it was.”