Page 66 of The Prime-Time Experiment

Not enough for most people to notice, unfortunately, Riley had never been most people.

“You’re hesitating,” she observed. Her head tilted slightly. “Why?”

The answer came more easily than he expected. “Because I don’t want to assume it’s okay.”

For a moment she simply looked at him, as if reading between the lines of what he hadn’t said. I don’t want you to be afraid of me. Riley took a breath, seemingly trying to organise what she wanted to say.

“You don’t need to ask anymore.” Declan frowned slightly. Of all the things he’d expected her to say, that had not been one of them. Riley met his gaze without hesitation. “I trust you.”

For a second he forgot what he’d been about to say. The words settled somewhere deep in his chest, bringing with them an unexpected rush of relief.

All day he wondered whether he’d imagined it. Since dinner, he had the persistent feeling that something had shifted between them, something subtle but undeniable. He noticed it in the way she spoke to him, in the way she’d looked at him before she left that night, and in the way she seemed just a little less guarded whenever they were together.

He’d spent most of the day convincing himself he was probably reading too much into it. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

Three months ago she could barely tolerate him standing within arm’s reach. He remembered the way she’d angle herself away whenever he got too close, the way her focus would sharpen into something protective before she even seemed aware she was doing it. He’d spent months being careful with her, making sure she always had space, always had a choice, because he’d understood early on that trust wasn’t something Riley gave easily.

And somewhere along the way, she’d decided he was worth it. He felt honoured.

“Okay,” he said quietly. For a moment neither of them moved. Declan held her gaze a second longer than he probably should have, caught once again by the ridiculous clarity of her eyes. He’d spent months trying not to think about them and had failed spectacularly every single time.

Then he stepped forward. He had to trust that if Riley wanted space, she’d take it.

When his hand settled lightly against her arm, he felt the reaction immediately. It wasn’t fear, but familiarity, the kind of response that lived deeper than conscious thought, the body remembering the things she experienced long after the mind had decided they weren’t relevant anymore.

Her shoulders tightened briefly, her breath caught. For a second she seemed to turn inward, her focus narrowing in that way he recognised now as processing rather than retreating. Declan waited.

He’d learned that lesson years ago working with Ebony. Sometimes, the most useful thing you could do was nothing at all. Gradually, the tension eased, her breathing evening back out.

When he adjusted the angle of her shoulder a moment later, the reaction wasn’t quite as pronounced as it had been the first time. By the third correction, she wasn’t bracing anymore, she was simply letting him help.

The session continued around them, but it felt different now. The structure was still there, Riley would never allow there not to be structure. They worked through the same drills, the same corrections, the same repetitions they’d planned from the start.

And yet Declan found himself increasingly aware of things that had nothing to do with training. The space between them, the way she no longer seemed to measure every step he took in her direction.

The way her attention stayed on him when he spoke, steady and unguarded in a way that would have been impossible only a few months ago.

At one point she stepped closer than she needed to. The distance between them disappeared entirely, and for a second neither of them moved. Declan stayed exactly where he was. Riley’s gaze lifted to his, thoughtful and focused, as though she was trying to understand something she hadn’t quite found a language for yet.

He wondered if she was aware of how close they were. He wondered if she was just as aware of him as he was of her, whether he felt his desperation for her attempting to climb out of his throat. A moment later she took a small step back, returning the space between them with the same deliberate care she brought to everything else. For some reason, that had told him more than if she’d stayed.

They finished the session quieter than they had started.

When Riley reached the doorway, she slowed. Declan recognised the look immediately. Over the last few months, he’d become embarrassingly good at reading the moments when she was trying to organise a thought into something she could say aloud. Most people talked their way towards a conclusion. Riley seemed to arrive at one first and then spend several minutes determining whether it could survive being spoken.

So he waited. Her attention shifted from the floor back to him, and something in his chest tightened unexpectedly. Standing there with her watching him, he found himself wondering again whether something between them had changed, and he couldn’t tell whether it was for better or worse.

It took him a second to get out of his own head enough to realise that Riley started walking towards him. She stopped close enough that his pulse immediately became a problem.

For a moment neither of them spoke. He could see her thinking, see the concentration in her expression as she worked through something internally, reaching a conclusion in real time.

And then, before he had any chance to understand where any of it was heading, she leaned forward and kissed him.

The world seemed to disappear for a second. His brain simply stopped functioning, the feeling of her lips against his short-circuited every coherent thought he’d been capable of having.

Riley was kissing him. The reality of it hit with enough force that he was still trying to process what happened when instinct finally caught up and his hands started to lift towards her.

But by then she was already pulling away. Declan stared at her. Riley stared right back, something flashing across her face. He could tell it wasn’t embarrassment entirely, it looked more like surprise. Her focus sharpened abruptly.