CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ROWAN
I didn’t mean to show up.
That was the lie I told myself on the walk there.
Blackthorne Arena looked the same as always from the outside—glass, steel, too much money pretending to be discipline—but it felt different today.
Like something inside it had shifted without permission.
I adjusted my bag strap and slowed near the entrance.
Serena texted behind me:
don’t pretend you’re not going in for him
I didn’t reply.
Because she was wrong.
And right.
That was the problem.
Inside, the corridor was already loud with post-practice movement.
Lockers. Shoes. Voices. Water bottles hitting benches.
Normal.
Except I noticed him instantly.
Not because he stood out.
Because I expected him to.
Mason was at the far end of the hallway, towel around his neck, talking to Jace.
Same posture. Same controlled stillness. Same expression like nothing ever really touched him unless he allowed it.
Except today—
he wasn’t fully there.
His eyes flicked up first.
To me.
Then immediately away.
Too fast.
Not casual.
Not indifferent.
Corrected.
Like he had to remind himself not to look.
That detail shouldn’t have mattered.
It did.
“Rowan,” Caleb said beside me, catching up. “You made it.”
“Yeah.”
He held a drink out without asking.
I took it.
Our fingers didn’t touch this time.
That should’ve meant nothing.
It didn’t feel like nothing.
Caleb nodded toward the court glass. “They just finished. Reed looked off today.”
“Off how?”
“Just… not himself.”
I didn’t answer.
Because I’d already noticed that.
From across the corridor.
Before I even admitted I was looking.
Mason didn’t come over immediately.
That was new.
Usually there was some version of him that eventually appeared—teasing, sharp, controlled.
Today, he stayed where he was.
Talking to Jace.
Except Jace kept glancing at me.
Like he found something entertaining.
Or dangerous.
Or both.
Mason didn’t look back again.
Not until I moved.
That was the part I didn’t like.
Because it meant he was tracking me without showing it.
And I hated that I noticed.
“Interview in ten,” Caleb said.
“Yeah.”
We started walking toward the media section.
That’s when it happened.
Not dramatic.
Not loud.
Just shift.
Mason stopped talking mid-sentence.
Not fully turning.
Just pausing.
Like something in his focus snapped toward me again without permission.
I didn’t look back.
I did anyway.
Just slightly.
Enough.
Our eyes met.
For half a second too long.
Then he looked away first.
But slower this time.
That was worse.
Jace noticed immediately.
Of course he did.
He leaned into Mason as they walked. “You’re doing it again.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You are absolutely doing something.”
Mason didn’t answer.
That silence said more than anything.
Jace grinned. “Caleb’s not subtle, by the way.”
Mason’s jaw tightened slightly.
Not visible to anyone else.
But I’d started noticing small things like that now.
I hated that I did.
“What?” Mason asked flatly.
“Nothing,” Jace said, too quickly. “Just saying he’s very… present.”
Mason stopped walking for half a second.
Then continued.
But slower.
Controlled.
Too controlled.
Later, during the interview setup, Caleb stood beside me explaining timing cues.
I was listening.
Mostly.
Except I could feel Mason somewhere behind us.
Not looking directly.
But aware.
That was the difference now.
He wasn’t watching.
He was registering.
And I didn’t know which version I preferred.
Caleb leaned slightly closer to show me something on the schedule sheet.
Just normal proximity.
But Mason’s voice cut through from behind us suddenly.
“Coach wants me back on court.”
Not looking at either of us.
Just leaving.
Fast.
Too fast.
Jace followed him immediately, muttering something under his breath.
But Mason didn’t slow down.
Didn’t turn.
Didn’t acknowledge me.
Which should’ve been fine.
It wasn’t.
Because it felt deliberate.
Like a decision.
That night, I shouldn’t have texted him.
But I did.
Because I was annoyed.
Or curious.
Or both.
you always this bad at pretending nothing happens?
Three dots appeared almost instantly.
Too fast.
nothing did happen
I stared at that.
Typed back:
you sure?
Pause.
Longer this time.
Then:
yes
Short.
Controlled.
Not like him.
That told me more than anything else today.
I should’ve stopped there.
I didn’t.
you’ve been weird all day
Three dots again.
Then:
you notice me a lot for someone who doesn’t care
I froze slightly.
That wasn’t what I expected.
Not the tone.
Not the timing.
Not the accuracy.
I stared at the screen longer than I should’ve.
Then typed:
don’t flatter yourself
Sent it immediately.
Almost regretted it.
Almost.
His reply came slower this time.
you’re at the arena tomorrow?
I didn’t answer immediately.
Because I knew what that question actually meant now.
Not attendance.
Presence.
I typed:
maybe
Then:
why
Three dots.
Long pause.
Long enough that I thought he might not answer.
Then:
because I’m starting to notice when you’re not there
I stopped breathing properly for a second.
That was new.
Not flirting.
Not teasing.
Something closer to honesty than either of us had used before.
I locked my phone immediately.
Put it face down.
Stared at it anyway.
Because now it wasn’t just tension anymore.
It was awareness turning into pattern.
And patterns don’t stay optional for long.