Page 47 of Burning Hearts
He walked me through it slower. My thumb slid along the side of his forefinger, definitely not by accident this time. The knot snugged tight, and when I gave the pull cord a sharp tug, it snapped free cleanly.
“Good,” he said.
The satisfaction hit somewhere under my ribs.
“Say that one more time,” I told him, pretending I meant the knot.
He didn’t smile, which somehow made it land harder.
“Good,” he repeated, quieter.
We let the cord rest and went back to pretending.
“Beau wants a two-minute stand-up by the fountain at nine,” I said. “We’ll keep the southwest corner open, I promise.”
“Keep your cable tails taped flat,” he said. “And if you have to run one across traffic, be sure to give me a heads-up.”
“Copy,” I said, putting another sticker down.
He pointed to the sponsor wall with his pencil. It had BRICKYARD along the side.
“You’re going to want people to drift this way,” he said. “Don’t block the lane to do it.”
“Never,” I said. “I don’t make your job harder.”
His eyes lifted from the map to my face. “I noticed.”
I swallowed the part of me that wanted to say:Did you notice anything else?
Instead, I flagged a rectangle: MEDIA HOLD SHORT.
“Two questions, and out,” I said.
“Good,” he said again.
Unhelpfully devastating.
We stood in a comfortable narrowness that happens only when two people aim at the same outcome but refuse to be clumsy about it. The rest of the suite became background music as my eyes locked on his.
“About the fire,” I said, because I was excellent at asking for trouble. “Thank you for moving me out of danger’s way. Thank you for helping me.”
“You moved people without yelling,” he said. “That helps things go smoothly.”
I nodded.
“Wyatt looked like he wanted to adopt me,” I said.
“That’s his version of a hug,” Cade said.
The quiet that followed wasn’t empty; it just settled between us.
Our hands found reasons to stay near each other without actually being together. If you looked fast, it was two guys planning cones.
If you looked slowly, it was a problem.
“Public stays clean,” I said, voicing a rule I needed to hear.
“Clean,” he echoed. “And Ellis?—”
