"You look terrible without sleep."
Elliot's hand tightened on the cotton coat he carried and his voice stayed casual like he wasn't staring at the dark crescents under her eyes.
"I missed the flight," Haven said. She dropped her carry-on with a soft thud and pulled the collar up as if it could hide the rest.
"You always do this." He stepped closer. "You always show up at the worst times and make me glad I came."
"Glad you came," she repeated, lower. "You're supposed to be at practice."
"I got out early." He handed her the coat and didn't let go of her sleeve for a second longer than necessary. "You smell like airport coffee."
She closed her fingers around the fabric. "I smell like deadlines," she said. "And bad in-flight sandwiches."
Elliot laughed, the sound quick and bright in the arrivals hall. People flowed around them, rolling bags and phones, but the space right where they stood felt private.
"Don't laugh," she warned. "You make it harder to be cranky."
"Good." He tilted his head. "I like you less cranky."
"You say that like it's my problem."
"Maybe it is my problem." He stepped in close enough that she could feel warmth through the wool. "Maybe it's the only problem I want."
She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and kept her voice flat. "Elliot."
"Yes?" He watched her like he was memorizing the shape of her
