Page 81 of The Prime-Time Experiment

The invitation wasn’t for her to prove compatibility. It was for her to extend it.

Riley glanced briefly at Declan, her gaze more focused now, more deliberate as she tracked the ease in his expression, the lack of hesitation in the way he had said it. There was no adjustment in his tone, no softening or recalibration to make it easier for her to process.

He simply included her as though that part required no negotiation.

Beside her, Dee nudged her lightly with her elbow. “You coming, or are you going to stand here and over-analyse his sentence structure?”

Riley continued watching Declan. “I am not over-analysing,” she said.

Dee hummed, “Sure.”

Declan had already taken a few steps before he looked back in realisation.

Riley hadn’t moved.

She stood exactly where he left her, gaze fixed on him, posture composed but still in a way that wasn’t typical hesitation. It wasn’t uncertainty in the environment. She was just… processing.

Declan’s expression shifted, subtle and yet always intentional.

“Hey,” he said, softer now, stepping back toward her.

He closed the distance without caution this time, stopping just in front of her again. Up close, his focus settled fully, steady and undivided.

“You with me?” he asked.

Riley held his gaze. “Yes.”

But she had not moved.

His eyes dropped briefly to her hand, then back to her face. A small decision made quickly, instinctively.

Then he reached for her. His fingers closed around her hand, warm and grounding.

She hadn’t ever set boundaries about public settings, she was not one for the concept of PDA. However, she found there was no spike in discomfort, no instinct to withdraw. No immediate need to correct or re-establish boundaries.

Instead, her fingers shifted slightly in his grasp.

Her awareness narrowed not to the room, not to the movement around them, but to the point of contact. The warmth of his hand, the steadiness of his grip. The absence of pressure.

Safe.

Her breathing followed it without conscious instruction, settling into something more even, more anchored. The background noise receded further, no longer requiring active filtering.

It grounded her. The conclusion formed quietly, but clearly.

Her gaze dropped briefly to where their hands met, then lifted again to his face. Declan was watching her carefully now, giving her the space to reject it if she needed to.

She didn’t.

“Okay?” he asked quietly.

Riley nodded once. “Yes.”

The answer came without hesitation this time. Something in his expression softened: not relief exactly, but something close to it.

“Alright,” he said.

Riley didn’t respond. Her attention had already shifted, following the direction of Declan’s movement until it landed where he indicated.