Page 204 of Red Zone
And now, watching her move from table to table, checking details, offering polite smiles and soft instructions, it hits me all over again just how much I miss her.
And how much I still want her.
She doesn’t even glance my way, too focused on the task at hand.
But I can’t take my eyes off her.
Jaxon leans over to murmur something about the bid sheets and what he wants to throw down on a signed jersey, but I barely hear him.
Because all I can see is her.
Finally, the lights over the stage brighten and Claire steps up to the podium, tapping the mic.
The room quiets instantly.
“Good evening, everyone,” Claire begins, her voice smooth and polished. “On behalf of the PCU Athletic Department, I want to thank you all for coming tonight to support a truly special cause.”
She goes on, explaining the summer camp program, its mission, its goals.
I keep my eyes on Lyla the whole time, watching her shoulders straighten, her chin lift as she listens.
She deserves to be up there, I think to myself.
Like she somehow hears me, Claire glances toward her and smiles faintly.
“And while I could stand here and tell you more,” Claire continues. “There’s someone better to explain why this initiative matters so much. The person who’s been the heart behind this event from the very beginning.”
She gestures offstage.
“Please welcome…Lyla Harding.”
The sound of her name, spoken over the speakers, sends a jolt through me.
I watch as she freezes for just a second, her tablet pressed tight to her chest—before she exhales, pastes on a graceful smile, and steps toward the podium.
The applause swells as she climbs the steps, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her heels clicking softly on the wood.
And when she finally turns to face the crowd…
I feel it all over again.
That pull.
That ache.
That quiet, undeniable truth.
She’s it for me.
The applause dies down as she adjusts the mic, her fingers just barely trembling.
But when she looks out at the crowd, she’s steady.
She clears her throat softly, her voice clear and calm as it fills the room.
“Thank you, Claire. And thank you all for being here tonight,” she begins, her eyes sweeping across the tables.
Her gaze doesn’t land on me—not even for a second—but somehow, I still feel like she’s speaking right to me.
