The weight room had mostly cleared out, but the tension lingered like sweat on the mirrors. I stayed behind on purpose, pretending to stretch while the last few guys headed for the showers. My ribs protested every movement, the deep bruises pulling tight with every breath, but I couldn’t leave yet. Not when Caleb was still here.
He leaned against the far wall near the squat rack, arms crossed, watching me with that stormy grey intensity that made my skin prickle. The captain’s mask was firmly in place for anyone who might glance back, but I saw the cracks — the way his jaw flexed, the way his fingers drummed once against his bicep before stilling.
When the door finally clicked shut behind the last teammate, the tension snapped like a breaking stick.
Caleb crossed the room in long, purpo
