Page 64 of The Prime-Time Experiment

The thought settled somewhere dangerous. “Hi,” she said. And there it was again, that stupid giddy feeling.

“Hey, Riles,” he said, stepping back to let her inside.

She moved past him and into the house, and once again he found himself noticing something he probably shouldn’t have. A few weeks ago, Riley would’ve left far more space between them. It wouldn’t have been because she’d been uncomfortable around him exactly, but because she approached proximity the same way she approached everything else: deliberately.

Now she simply walked through the doorway. The distance was still there, but it no longer felt looked as thought about. God help him, that made him happier than it had any right to.

The house was quiet as they headed downstairs, neither of them feeling any particular need to fill the silence. Riley never seemed bothered by it, and Declan had discovered he wasn’t either. Somewhere along the way he’d stopped feeling responsible for carrying every conversation and started appreciating the fact that she never required it from him.

When they reached the gym, Riley paused briefly in the doorway. Her gaze moved through the room, taking in the equipment, the layout, the positioning of everything within it. A month ago, he would’ve assumed she was hesitating. Now he understood that she was simply checking. Making sure the space she expected to walk into was the same one she’d walked into yesterday.

It was, Declan had made sure of that.

The thought arrived so casually that it took him a second to recognise how ridiculous it was. Because he had made sure of it, often enough that he it had his nightly habit. The mats stayed where she expected them to be, the equipment remained arranged the same way.

It mattered to her, which meant it mattered to him too.

Riley crossed the room and set her bag down, beginning her usual routine. Laptop, notebook. Everything placed exactly where she wanted it before she seemed willing to settle herself.

Declan leaned against the wall and watched her. There was no point pretending he didn’t anymore. He watched her constantly.

Which he found ironic, considering Riley was probably the least attention-seeking person he’d ever met. If anything, she seemed happiest when everyone forgot she was there. He didn’t think that would ever be a possibility for him now.

The knock at the front door barely registered at first.

Declan heard it somewhere in the background of his thoughts, filed it away as something he would deal with in a second, and then promptly returned his attention to Riley.

Across the room she was reorganising a section of her notes, her brow furrowed slightly as she compared two columns of data. The concentration on her face was familiar now. He’d spent enough hours watching it to recognise the difference between curiosity, frustration and genuine engagement.

The knock came again. This time Riley looked up. “Your nine o’clock client has arrived.”

Declan blinked. For a second, he just stared at her. Then the actual meaning of the sentence caught up with him. “Right.” A laugh escaped before he could stop it, and he dragged a hand across the back of his neck.

Riley’s gaze narrowed slightly. “Was there a change to the schedule?”

“No.”

“Did they arrive early?”

“No.”

She studied him for another second. “Then why are you still standing here?”

Declan laughed properly at that. “Good question.”

Something in her expression shifted, not concern exactly, but observing him. “Are you alright?”

The question should have been easy to answer.

Instead, he found himself looking at her for a fraction longer than necessary, caught by her eyes again. It kept happening.

He’d never paid this much attention to anyone’s eyes before, but Riley’s made it difficult not to. They were an impossible shade of green; clear, steady and far brighter than anything else about her. Most people noticed her restraint first, or the careful way she moved through the world. Declan noticed her eyes.

Maybe because they gave so much away once you learned how to read them, or maybe because they were genuinely distracting.

Either way, they were fixed on him now with quiet expectation, waiting for an answer he should’ve given several seconds ago.

“Yeah,” he said eventually.