Page 105 of Cold Front
“Accurate.”
She sighed. “Fine, I’ll allow it. But yeah, no prospects. No one even remotely interesting, so I’m settling for being an over-invested big sister instead.”
I smirked. “When aren’t you over-invested?”
“Excuse you, I am a delight.”
I laughed quietly, glancing toward the hallway again. Still no movement.
Cheyenne’s voice softened. “For real though, if he ever screws up, just say the word and I’ll fly out there.”
I shook my head, warmth spreading through my chest. “Duly noted.”
She grinned. “All right, go be gross and in love. I need more coffee.”
“Later, Chey.”
“Later, lover boy.”
I hung up, setting my phone down with a small smile. The apartment was still quiet, just the hum of the fridge and the gentle thump of water in the pipes.
I let myself soak it in for a second—the warmth in my chest from talking to Cheyenne, the afterglow of last night, the knowledge that Niall was still curled up in my bed, right where he belonged.
A life with him in it felt bigger. Brighter. Like something I could finally hold on to without it slipping through my fingers.
A knock on the door jolted me out of my thoughts. With a deep breath, I pushed off the counter and grabbed a dish towel, idly wiping my hands as I glanced at the clock. A little past nine. The university always sent maintenance notices in advance, and I vaguely remembered seeing an email about inspections this week. Figuring that was it, I strode to the door, unlocking it without hesitation.
But it wasn’t maintenance.
It was Chase.
For a second, I just stared.
He looked exactly almost the same—blond hair a little longer, beard scruffier, a cocky kind of handsome. Like a younger Charlie Hunnam, with sharp cheekbones and the kind of smirk that once made me weak in the knees. But not anymore. Like someone who knew the world bent around him and expected it to keep doing so.
He smiled, casual and easy, like we hadn’t gone months without speaking. “Hey, Eli.”
My stomach twisted, my grip tightening on the towel still in my hand. “What are you doing here?”
“I miss you.”
“How did you even find me?”
He shrugged like it was nothing. “You left breadcrumbs. You were tagged on an Insta post. Wasn’t hard.” He smiled like it was a game he’d just won. “I did some snooping. Found a friend of a friend who knew a guy on the hockey team. One of the subs. Poor guy didn’t know I was fishing for info.”
That cold weight settled in my chest. He’d hunted me down.
“I needed to see you. I’ve been thinking about us—about everything.” He glanced past me into the apartment, almost like he was scoping out the space he thought he could reclaim.
“There is no ‘us,’” I said firmly.
Chase stepped closer. “Come on.” His voice softened, dripping with the charm that used to get him whatever he wanted. “I fucked up. I know that. But I miss you, and I’m willing to make this work. I can transfer here. Be closer to you. We can figure this out.”
I opened my mouth to shut that down, but before I could, Chase’s eyes flickered over my shoulder. His expression shifted, and that’s when I felt it—the warmth of a solid body behind me. The slow, steady inhale of someone standing close. Then, an arm slipped around my waist, pulling me back against a familiar chest.
Niall.
“Pretty bold showing up here uninvited,” he said. His grip tightened slightly, his presence grounding me. “Eli’smyboyfriend.”
