Page 15 of Try Line Hearts
Kaine waited a beat—one heartbeat too long—then stood and walked away.
The hollow that opened in Byrne’s chest was sharp and immediate.
Stupid.
Unmanageable.
Later, the locker room churned with chaos—steam, shouting, bottles clattering against tile. Byrne waited until the noise thinned before stepping under the water.
Then—
“Thought you said that bruise wasn’t bothering you.”
Every muscle in his body locked.
Kaine leaned against the wall just outside the stall, towel slung low around his hips, curls still damp. He didn’t intrude. He didn’t touch.
He was just devastatingly near.
“I didn’t say you could follow me in,” Byrne murmured.
“I didn’t follow you,” Kaine replied, amused. “I’m showering. Same time as you.”
“You could’ve used another stall.”
“Yeah,” Kaine said, voice softening. “But then we wouldn’t talk.”
Byrne’s chest tightened painfully.
“We don’t need to talk.”
“Maybe not,” Kaine said gently. “But don’t shut me out completely, captain.”
Byrne shut his eyes.
He wanted the conversation, the closeness…
He wanted too much.
“You don’t know me,” he whispered.
“I’m trying to,” Kaine said.
Steam thickened. Silence stretched, heavy and full of things unsaid.
Then Kaine stepped back, giving Byrne space he hadn’t asked for but desperately needed.
“See you in review.”
His footsteps faded.
And Byrne felt ruined.
He pressed his forehead to the tile, breath shaking as disappointment washed through him—sharp, relentless.
Not disappointment in Kaine.
Disappointment in himself.
