Page 53 of The Callahan Effect

Class group. They're already complaining about tomorrow's lectures.

"Medical students really do enjoy making each other miserable."

He shrugged in amusement before typing.

It's tradition.

"I'm glad hockey players only complain to each other's faces."

He raised an eyebrow.

Really?

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"All right...mostly behind Coach's back."

That earned me an exaggerated eye roll before he tucked the phone into his pocket when our order number was called.

Jack collected the bags while I carried the coffees, and together we made the short walk back toward campus. Sunday afternoons carried none of the weekday rush, leaving the paths almost leisurely by comparison.

We crossed the quad without hurrying, talking about nothing particularly important until we reached the residence hall.

As we stepped through the open door, our shoulders bumped lightly, neither of us bothering to apologize or move apart.

The corridor outside my room remained almost deserted. Most students had disappeared into town or buried themselves beneath the mountain of reading already assigned during the first week of classes, leaving the floor unusually vacant. I began unlocking the door, attempting to balance our coffees, until Jack rescued one from my hand.

We stepped inside and the familiar room greeted us with quiet afternoon sunlight spilling through the window overlooking campus. Sunlight streamed through the window overlooking campus, illuminating the photographs above my desk, and catching the white trim on my Evergreen equipment stacked neatly in the corner. It still amazed me that such an ordinary dorm room had become the place where my life had changed direction.

Jack unpacked lunch onto the small table beneath the window and for a little while we concentrated entirely on eating.

Conversation wasn't necessary.

Sharing the same space with him had already become enough.

When we'd finished, I gathered the empty containers and dropped them into the trash. When I turned back toward him, he was standing beside the window watching students crossing the campus below. The afternoon sun outlined his profile in gold.

He turned to face me and nothing needed to be said.

I crossed the room until only inches separated us. Then I reached for his hand.

Jack's fingers closed around mine without hesitation.

The simple contact carried none of the doubts that had marked our first evening together. We'd crossed that line already, first by trusting one another, then by trusting Coach Callahan with the truth. Walking out of his office had lifted a weight from both of us.

I drew Jack a little closer until barely a breath separated us.

"You know what I keep thinking?"

He tilted his head.

"If somebody had asked me a week ago what I'd be doing this Sunday afternoon, I would've given them a hundred answers." I let out a soft breath. "None of them would've included standing here with someone who already feels like the best part of my day."

A faint flush crept across his face as he reached for his phone.

I feel exactly the same.

My chest tightened.