"You clean up nice," Keegan said when I arrived, clapping me on the shoulder. His hand was warm—deliberately so, I suspected—and I felt some of the tension in my muscles ease at the contact.
"Thanks." I scanned the crowd, trying to look casual about it. "Is everyone here?"
Keegan's knowing smile said I wasn't fooling anyone. "He's at the bar. Getting a drink with Nancy."
My gaze found him immediately. Cinder, in dark jeans and a fitted sweater that made his shoulders look broader than they did in scrubs. He was laughing at something Nancy said, his whole face transformed by it, and something in my chest turned over at the sight.
"Go talk to him," Keegan said, nudging me forward. "Stop lurking like a creepy vampire."
"I'm not lurking."
"You're absolutely lurking." He gave me a gentle shove. "Go."
I went.
The crowd parted easily, and I found myself standing beside Cinder before I'd fully planned what to say. "Hey," I managed.
He turned, and the smile that spread across his face when he saw me made the entire bar feel warmer. "Hey yourself. You came."
"Seph made it mandatory." I leaned against the bar beside him, close enough that our shoulders almost touched. "Something about team bonding."
"Mmm." Cinder took a sip of his drink—something amber, probably whiskey. "Nancy's convinced he's trying to set someone up. She has theories."
"Do I want to know?"
"Probably not." His eyes sparkled with amusement. "But they involve Ash and a very confused goalie coach."
I laughed, surprising myself. When had laughing gotten so easy around him?
Nancy appeared at Cinder's other side, her expression shrewd as she looked between us. "Taz. You look less funereal than usual."
"Max dressed me."
"Smart man." She patted Cinder's arm. "I'm going to go interrogate the rookies. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
"That leaves a lot of options," Cinder called after her. She flipped him off without looking back, and he laughed—really laughed, the kind that lit up his whole face and made something warm unfurl in my chest.
"She's protective of you," I said.
"She's protective of everyone." Cinder turned to face me more fully, his back against the bar. "But yeah. She's been... she's been good to me. Especially after everything."
I didn't need to ask what "everything" meant. The article. Gavin. The hospital. All of it.
"I'm glad you have her," I said quietly.
Something shifted in his expression—softening, opening. "I'm starting to think I have more people than I realized."
The words hung between us, weighted with meaning neither of us was quite ready to address directly. I took a breath, my dragon stirring restlessly beneath my ribs, wanting things I wasn't sure I could have.
"Do you want to—" I gestured vaguely toward a quieter corner of the bar. "Talk? Without the crowd?" Would he tell me the same? Could I stand here and listen while he brushed me off?
Cinder studied me for a moment, something flickering behind his eyes—calculation, maybe, or the careful weighing of riskagainst reward that I'd come to recognize as his default mode. "Yeah," he said finally. "I'd like that."
We found a booth tucked away from the main floor, the music muted enough here that we could actually hear each other without shouting. Cinder slid in next to me, cradling his drink between both hands like he needed something to anchor himself. "So," he said. "This is us. Talking."
"This is us talking," I agreed, and couldn't help the small smile that tugged at my mouth.
He smiled back, tentative but real. "I've been thinking. About what you said in the parking lot."