17. “There’s no one more special than you, Katherine Lennox.”
“There’s no one more special than you, Katherine Lennox.”
Archie
I was this close to kissing Kat the night of our opener, and I’m kicking myself for not having made the first move.
I haven’t seen her in a few days, and as strange as it sounds, I miss her.
All I thought about during our first away match of the season was Kat.
And after crossing paths with her three times in one day, I finally decided to elaborate a plan.
I’m still not sure it was wise to listen to my only single friends, but it seems to be working.
The next time I crossed Katherine in the hallway, I suggested we work out together today, and she agreed.
While I sip my morning coffee, my phone buzzes. It’s a reply from Gilly—finally. She says she received the results of her biopsy, and she already has an appointment to get the spot removed in about ten days.
I let out a slow breath and lean back in my chair as relief floods me. Thank goodness. Gilly might be chaotic, but I know Kat loves her. Finishing my coffee, I grab my gym bag and head downstairs.
The gym is empty—just how I like it. No one to watch, no one to interrupt. I start a warm-up jog on the treadmill, the steady rhythm calming my nerves.
Then, the door opens.
I hit pause and glance up. And just like that, my heart does that annoying little leap—a habit it’s picked up whenever I’m around her.
Kat struts in like she owns the place, water bottle in one hand, a towel over her shoulder.
Her black-and-white workout gear hugs her in all the right ways, emphasizing her effortlessly cool look that she has down to a science.
Her hair is pulled up, her skin is glowing, and she wears an expression that’s unimpressed but amused.
“Hey,” I call, stepping off the treadmill. “Ready to work out with an elite-level athlete?”
She raises an eyebrow. “Please. I’ve seen you exercise before, remember? It’s not exactly rocket science.”
I blurt out a laugh. “Oh, no. I train completely differently with an audience. I can’t give out my best Regents tips to just anyone.”
She shakes her head, trying not to smile. “How long do you have before training?”
I glance at the wall clock. “Couple of hours. It’s just a light prep for tonight’s match.”
“All right,” she says, rolling her shoulders. “My shift starts at noon. Let’s get this over with.”
“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” I grab two sets of dumbbells and hand her one. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today. I’ll even let you keep up.”
“Let me?” She scoffs, lowering into a lunge like she’s done it a thousand times. “I’m a trauma surgeon, Archie. I’ve held someone’s liver in my hands while doing CPR. I think I can handle a few squats.”
“Fair enough,” I say, trying not to stare at the effortless way she moves. “But can you do those squats with me distracting you?”
“You mean your constant chatter?” she says, standing up. “Or your face?”
“Ouch. That was unnecessary. Hurtful, even. I thought we were friends.”
She lifts her dumbbells. “Are we?”
I shake my head, taking a step toward her. “You know, this whole banter thing we’ve got going on? It’s dangerous.”
Her eyes narrow. “Dangerous how?”
“It makes it very hard for me to focus on anything else.”
She glances at me, and for the briefest moment, her smirk slips—just a flicker of something softer passing behind her eyes. She recovers quickly, stepping over to the bench.
“Looks like you’re the one who’ll have a hard time keeping up, then.”
Who is this woman? And how long am I going to survive in this world without kissing her?
“Come on, elite athlete,” she barks, continuing her reps. “You’re slacking.”
When I finally manage to set my head straight, I dive into my workout. We settle into a routine, completing some lunges, rows, partner-assisted core work. She’s strong—really strong—and it’s hot watching her compete with me rep for rep, never once backing down.
“Okay,” I pant, breathless when we finish a set of mountain climbers. “You win. You’re officially terrifying.”
She drops to the mat beside me, breathing hard. “You should see me in the operation theatre.”
I glance sideways at her. “Believe me, I think about that more than I should.”
Her breath catches, but she doesn’t look away, or even smirk. Just holds my gaze, as if she’s daring me to say more.
But I’m stuck. All my brain wants to do is kiss her, and I’m not a hundred percent sure how she’d react to that. She’s been flirting with me, sure, but the idea of kissing her is mortifying. Because if I miss my shot, I might never get another one.
“So,” she says, shifting onto her side. “I haven’t seen any of those valuable tips yet, let alone a pro-athlete level training routine. Are you all talk, Archie Wilcott?”
The hairs on my neck prickle when she says my name. I shift to my side to see her better, now only inches from her. “My hacks are actually reserved for the woman who holds the title of my girlfriend.”
She smiles, looking down at the floor, then up at me again. “Aw, shoot.”
“But for you, I could make an exception,” I suggest, not tearing my eyes from hers.
“Well.” She wets her lips. “Nicely played. You know how girls like to feel special.”
“There’s no one more special than you, Katherine Lennox,” I murmur.
She doesn’t even flinch, and taking the cue, I close the space between us.
Our lips meet in a rush—like we’ve both been holding our breath for weeks and can now finally exhale into each other. It’s not slow or tentative. It’s all heat and relief, her mouth searching and warm under mine, her fingers curling instinctively into my T-shirt like she’s anchoring herself to me.
I’ve imagined this a hundred times before, but nothing even came close.
She shifts closer, deepening the kiss, and I reach up to cup her cheek. My thumb brushes her skin. But then, just as quickly, she pulls back, breathing hard.
I freeze.
Her gaze flickers from my mouth to my eyes. “This is casual, right?” she rasps, her voice a little hoarse. “I don’t want anything serious.”
My pulse thrums in my ears. I don’t move, don’t even blink for a second. Then, I nod slowly. “Yeah,” I say, even though something inside me tightens. “Casual.”
She tugs me back toward her, and our mouths crash again. Clutching the front of my shirt, she pulls me flush against her, and I lose track of everything but the feel of Katherine—her hands, her body, her soft gasp when I nip at her bottom lip.
She rolls onto her back, bringing me with her, and I brace a hand beside her head, trying not to crush her on the mat.
“Will you watch the match tonight?” I ask, instantly regretting my question. That’s definitely not casual. “You know, to see what you’re missing out on while you’re at the hospital,” I add, hoping she’ll just think I’m being cocky.
“It’s hard work, you know,” she says, her eyes teasing. “I’m not exactly lounging around the break room. People’s lives are in my hands.”
“Fine. I’ll just have to give you a play-by-play afterwards, then.” I place another kiss on her lips.
She wraps her arms around my neck. “Sounds like a plan.”
Smiling against her lips, I quickly lose myself in her warmth. I know this is casual and all, but I can’t wait to see her again.