Chapter 4 The Offer
The Offer
Liam
Ipushed open the office door without knocking, still half-scanning the stat sheet I’d grabbed from the locker room printer.
“Coach, you wanted to—”
Then I stopped midstride.
She was sitting across from him. Legs crossed. Back straight. That same calm expression, like nothing ever caught her off guard. Like she belonged there.
My hand froze on the doorframe.
It didn’t make sense. I blinked once, then again. She wasn’t supposed to be here. Not in this office. Not connected to this part of my life.
But it was her.
Not Nora. I knew that. But still—her.
The same honey-brown eyes. That precise posture. The way she held herself like she’d rehearsed every movement ahead of time. The same tug behind my ribs, like a memory trying to reassert itself.
"Liam?" she said quizzically, eyes narrowing just a hair.
My name in her voice broke whatever spell I’d let wrap around my brain.
She shifted in her chair, turning slightly to face me.
“Claire?” The word came out before I could check it.
Coach looked between us.
He leaned back in his chair, eyebrows raised like he was waiting for the punchline. I didn’t move.
Claire didn’t either.
“Okay… and I’m Nolan. How the heck do you two know each other?”
She just shifted slightly enough for me to notice the way her hair was pulled back today. Different than before. Pulled back low, leaving her neck exposed.
Not Nora. She wasn’t Nora.
She looked up at me again. Her eyes flicked over my face, then down my shoulders and chest, before snapping back up. Quick.
My chest tightened. I needed to say something. Do something. But my brain, mouth, hand, foot hadn’t gotten the message yet.
So I just stood there, file still in my hand, heartbeat ticking loud in my ears.
Claire was the one who broke the silence.
“We’ve met,” Claire said, glancing my way. “He lives in your building, a few floors up.”
Coach Bennett blinked. “Wait, Callahan? Liam Callahan, my star goalie? You didn’t recognize him?”
Without missing a beat, Claire responded, “We exchanged first names. He was wearing a hoodie and talking about copper pans, not hockey.”
Now my new coach was looking directly at me.
Why do I feel like I'm being called down to the principal’s office?
“And you? You had no idea you were talking to my sister?”
Is that a rhetorical question, or do I need to answer that?
"Thanks for getting me in trouble with my brother," she said, looking straight at me. Her tone was dry, but there was a flicker of something behind it, amusement, maybe. A dare.
I turned to Claire. My head pinged between Coach Bennett and Claire, as if I were watching a tennis match.
Nolan’s head whipped toward her. “Hold on. What do you mean by ‘getting in trouble’? What happened?”
Claire tilted her head toward me. “Your goalie here was kind enough to give me a private tour of his apartment.”
“Private what?” Nolan sat forward.
“It’s not what it sounds like,” I said quickly.
Claire nodded, crossing her arms with mock solemnity. “It’s exactly what it sounds like.”
Nolan’s eyes narrowed. “Start talking. Slowly.”
Of course, she had a connection to the one person in this building I can’t afford to piss off.
I shifted my weight, setting the stat sheet on the edge of his desk. “She was in the lobby. Real estate agent bailed. Looked stranded. I had a comparable unit. Figured showing her mine was better than letting her waste her time.”
Nolan looked at Claire. “And you just… went along with it? You went into the apartment of a strange man?”
She shrugged. “He seemed trustworthy enough. Although, come to think of it, I did see several sharp knives in the kitchen.”
I blinked. “They were part of a set.”
“Sure they were,” she said, deadpan. Then she looked at Nolan again. “What I didn’t mention was that I never actually got into your apartment. I only saw the listing pictures and drone tour. And I didn’t want to hear the lecture about me being ‘too independent for my own good.’”
Nolan leaned back and pointed at her. “Which is exactly what you’re getting now.”
Claire grinned. “See? This is why I didn’t say anything.”
I watched them go back and forth, and something they both said clicked. This wasn’t tense, it was them. Familiar, sarcastic, warm underneath all the dry wit.
“Wait a second,” I said, holding up a hand. “You two are related?”
Nolan nodded, vaguely amused. “Liam, meet Dr. Claire Bennett. My younger sister. She's in town, short-term to help set up my apartment up. Claire is younger by eighteen months, but still acts like she knows better than I do.”
“That’s because I do.” Claire leaned her elbow on the armrest, chin in hand. “And apparently, I’m also better at scouting apartments. Liam’s kitchen was waaay nicer, by the way.”
Nolan gave me a long look. “You didn’t mention anything about playing tour guide.”
I shrugged. “Didn’t seem relevant.”
I sensed the older brother death stare.
“I mean, I had no idea that my showing an apartment to someone would be relevant to you.”
Okay, Callahan, stop rambling.
“It just seemed efficient. She was in a jam, I had the same apartment floor plan as the one she was trying to look at.”
He snorted. “I’m just busting your chops. Sorry, it's a sibling thing.”
The corner of Claire's mouth lifted just slightly. Not a smile exactly, but something close to it. That same dry composure, but there was warmth behind it now. And just like that, the edge in my chest eased a notch. Not all the way. But enough to breathe.
Still, she was my coach’s sister.
Fantastic.
And since she was moving into his apartment to help prepare it for his family's arrival, I’d be seeing her. Again. Soon.
Right now, I just watched the two of them volley jabs across the desk, pretending like my pulse wasn’t still trying to outrun itself. There was a familiarity I wouldn’t mind being a part of.
Coach Bennett leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “Sorry you walked into the middle of a sibling dispute. Happens more than I’d like to admit.”
Claire cut in without missing a beat. “He’s just upset because I’m right. Again.”
“You’re not right. You’re stubborn,” Nolan shot back.
“Same thing,” she said, reaching for her phone like the conversation was over.
He turned to me. “Maybe you can talk some sense into her. She insists on moving out while my wife and daughters are here. Says she doesn’t want to ‘take up space.’”
“I said I’d book a hotel,” Claire added, scrolling casually. “It’s not a big deal.”
“You’re family,” Nolan said. “They haven’t seen you in months. They’ll want you there.”
Claire just raised her eyebrows in that calm, immovable way that said she’d already made up her mind.
And then, before I could think it through, before my brain even registered the words, I said it.
“You can stay at my place.”
The room went still.
Nolan blinked. “What?”
Claire actually froze. I saw her fingers stop mid-scroll.
Even I didn’t know where that sentence came from.
I cleared my throat. “I mean, if you’re just looking for a place for a couple of weeks. I’m on the road a lot. There’s a guest room with its own bathroom. Separate wing. You’d barely know I was there.”
No one said anything.
So, naturally, I kept going. Needed to make this sound less weird.
“You’d be closer to your nieces.”
I looked at Claire, then at Nolan, then back to Claire again.
She was still staring at me, blank, but not cold. Like she was waiting to see if I’d say something even dumber.
“And I cook,” I added, a half-second too late.
Oh boy. Was I making this worse?
Claire slowly turned her head toward her brother. “Are we… in a roommate pitch meeting?”
Nolan just stared at me. “Callahan, I’ve had guys hustle for ice time before. But this is new.”
“It’s not like that,” I said quickly. “It’s just… practical.”
Claire tilted her head, clearly trying to decide if I’d gone insane.
“Really,” I added. “It’s not for that long.”
That part came out softer than I meant. Because for some reason, saying it was short-term made it easier to offer. Made it sound less creepy.
Claire studied me. Not suspicious, exactly. Just… curious. Like she was trying to figure out if I was serious.
“I mean, if it’s not weird,” she said finally.
Oh no, it's definitely weird.
Nolan made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. “Oh, it’s definitely weird. But it’s also weirdly practical. Which sounds a lot like you, Claire.”
Claire gave him the death stare, the kind that probably began when they were kids and had only grown more intense with age.
Then she turned back to me. “Thanks.”
I gave a short nod, as if this was no big deal. As if I hadn’t just offered my apartment to the woman who looked like my past and was apparently going to be part of my future.
Internally, though, I was spiraling.
What did I just do?
Claire stood, phone in hand, and started toward the door.
Halfway there, she paused, just long enough to look over her shoulder at me.
“Thanks for the tour,” she said. Her voice was even, but her eyes lingered. “And for keeping me closer to my nieces.”
Then she was gone.
The door clicked shut.
Nolan didn’t look at me right away. He just exhaled.
Then, “You okay, Callahan? You look like you saw a ghost.”
I didn’t answer.
I wanted to blame the resemblance.
But that wasn’t what had me watching the door after she left.