“My mom died when I was in basic training. Cancer—fast, brutal, over before I could get home.” The words still taste bitter. “I’ve spent years blaming myself for that. For choosing the Army over being there when she needed me.”
Alicia’s expression softens. “Noah?—”
“When I got out, I told myself I’d choose a path that gives me more control.”
“A private outfit?”
“KOAN. Yes, I'm learning the ropes. Hudson is good people. The owner, Caroline, I believe she is too. They’re building something real—investigating when the government won’t, protection for people who need it.” I meet her eyes. “In the military, you get a window. You see your piece of the mission. The guys above you have a bigger window, bigger scope. They see more, so you learn to trust them. But I’m not a particularly patient guy. I wanted to see the full picture.”
“So you left.”
“So I left,” I confirm. “And I came to KOAN because it’s small enough that I can learn every aspect. See how it all fits together. Eventually, I’ll either partner with them or start something of my own.”
She’s watching me with new intensity, like she’s recalibrating everything she thought she knew.
“You’re not just a guy doing a job,” she says slowly.
“No. I’m not.” I push off the counter. “I’m a guy who knows what he wants and goes after it. Who doesn’t waste time on things that don’t matter. And who’s currently standing in a basement, breaking every professional rule he has, because the woman upstairs is the most fascinating person he’s ever met.”
Those stunning blue eyes flicker. “Noah?—”
“You think I’m young and naive. That I don’t know what I’m getting into.” I step closer. “But I know exactly what I’m doing. I want this. Not because it’s easy—but because it feels honest. Because I don’t want to walk away wondering. I’m not afraid of taking chances. Of seeing where this goes. The question is, how brave are you?”
For a long moment, she just looks at me. Quietly, voice so low I can barely hear her, she says, “A dinner date.”
“What was that?”
“You wanted a dinner date.” Her mouth curves slightly. “I think I can manage that.”
Something loosens in my chest. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She steps into my space, fingers finding the hem of my shirt. “I want to know you better. The real you. Not just the night shift bodyguard. The man who?—”
The front door opens upstairs.
“Mom? I’m home!”
Alicia freezes.
“Stella,” she whispers, then louder: “Hey sweetheart! I’ll be right up!”
She looks at me, panic and regret and something like apology all mixed together.
“Go,” I say quietly.
“I’m sorry?—”
“Don’t be. Just go.”
She hesitates, then stands on her toes and presses a quick kiss to my cheek. “Tomorrow. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”
Then she’s gone, footsteps light and quick on the stairs.
I hear her voice bright and easy as she greets Stella: “Hey honey! How was rehearsal? You’re home early.”
“Director had a migraine. We only ran through Act Two.”
Their voices fade as they move deeper into the house.