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My chest tightens before I even look up, and for a second, I swear I hear my heartbeat echo through the stadium.

I glance over to find him standing down a ramp, propping a side door open—in the same hoodie from earlier that shouldn't be this sexy and joggers that make me wonder if they're just a half-size too tight or if his quad muscles really are that big.

I smile, moving toward him as I slide my phone into the back pocket of my jeans and hold onto my purse strap across my chest like a lifeline.

Jace Holloway.

It hits me all over again every time I see him. And every time, I wonder how so much time could have passed without it feeling like we went even a day without each other.

These last couple of days have been like being in that time machine I often struggle with at home. But with Jace, it doesn't feel as weird or unwanted—like revisiting a past I'd rather escape. It feels like picking right back up where we started in a place I've only dreamt of returning to.

And I know, on paper, that doesn't make much sense. We're not just continuing our old story—we're two completely different people now.

If standing outside a Major League stadium that he's casually welcoming me into doesn't emphasize that, I'm not sure what would.

And yet… I want to run to him.

I want to throw my arms around his neck and kiss him. Because even though I saw him just a few hours ago, it still feels like exactly what I should be doing.

"Hi," I say, meeting him by the steel metal door. I settle on wrapping one arm around his waist and leaning in sideways for a hug that barely scratches the itch.

Jace does the same, gripping my shoulder and pulling me to him. "Thanks for coming."

"Thanks for inviting me to…" My eyes wander the building. "Your work?"

He chuckles, and because I'm still tucked under his arm, I literally feel it everywhere. "I just thought you probably hadn't been inside since you just got to G.C. But if you'd rather go somewhere else we—"

"No," I jump in. "I just—it's… unbelievable."

Jace ushers me in the door and closes it behind us with a bang that vibrates inside my chest. "All part of the job."

"Yeah, that's my point." He walks down a long corridor, and I follow closely behind. "I mean, you've seen my work—way less cool."

He stops when he reaches another door and shrugs. "That's true—hitting balls is way cooler than saving lives and shit."

A laugh rips out of me. "Eh, it's not all that exciting. Today I sewed up two hands and one knee, splinted three fingers, and collected a urine sample from a drunk with an eye patch."

"Was this all the same guy?"

I shake my head. "Now that might have stood a chance against all this."

Jace smiles and hesitates just a second before typing a code into a keypad on the wall. "You want a little tour?"

The lock on the door clicks, and he pushes it open, his arm stretching to hold it for me.

I nod, slipping into the gap between him and the frame, my eyes trailing slowly up the front of him.

Taking all of him in.

"I'd love one."

He lets the door close behind him but neither of us move as he's forced further inside. With our bodies nearly touching, Jace inhales slowly. "Let's do it then."

I ignore the innuendo that sends a pulse between my thighs and turn around as Jace flicks a switch by the door.

"Woah," I say, as light pours into the hall, beams of it bouncing off of bright silver frames and shiny brass plaques.

"This is where the media usually waits," Jace says, gesturing down the hall. "But some of the stuff here's pretty cool."