Page 70 of Blades Out
I stood frozen between them, the air thick enough to choke on.
Ben shifted his weight beside me—subtle, but I felt it. The easy warmth from moments ago had evaporated, replaced by something sharp and uncomfortable that prickled against my skin.
Rhys didn't move. Didn't speak. Just stood there holding his coffee cup, jaw tight, shoulders squared in a way that made the space feel smaller than it was.
"Ben." The name came out flat. Not rude, exactly—but cold enough to make my stomach flip.
Ben cleared his throat. "Coach."
The silence stretched. I glanced between them, pulse kicking up for reasons I couldn't name. This didn't feel like a normal exchange. It felt like watching two wolves size each other up, waiting to see who'd back down first.
"Shouldn't you be on break?" Rhys's tone stayed polite, clipped at the edges.
Ben blinked. "I—yeah. In a minute."
"Thought the café needed stocking." Rhys tilted his head toward the back room, barely a gesture. More like a command wrapped in suggestion.
Heat flooded my cheeks. I opened my mouth to say something—what; I had no idea—but Ben was already moving.
"Right. Yeah. I'll, uh…" He grabbed a rag from the counter, avoiding eye contact. "Be right back, Liv."
He disappeared into the storage room before I could respond.
And then it was just the two of us.
The quiet pressed in, heavy and awkward. I twisted my fingers in my apron, searching for something to say that wouldn't sound stupid.
Rhys took a slow sip of his coffee, watching me over the rim. His expression gave nothing away, but the tension in his shoulders hadn't eased.
"Everything okay?" The question slipped out small, tentative.
He lowered the cup. Studied me—not the surface, but deeper. Like he could see past the forced calm I wore, straight through to the exhaustion and fear I'd been fighting all morning.
My breath hitched. Did he know? Could he tell?
His gaze lingered on my face, then dropped to my hands, still twisted in the apron fabric. When he looked up again, something dark flickered in his expression. Not anger. Something worse.
Recognition.
"Be careful who you trust."
The words landed like a blow. Quiet. Controlled. Weighted with meaning I didn't understand.
My stomach twisted hard. "What?"
But he was already turning away, jaw clenched so tight I saw the muscle jump. He set the coffee cup down on the counter—half-full, abandoned—and walked toward the exit without another word.
I stood there staring after him, heart hammering against my ribs.
What just happened?
The storage room door creaked open. Ben emerged, glancing toward the exit where Rhys had disappeared. "He gone?"
I nodded, throat too tight to speak.
"Jeez." Ben exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. "That was weird, right? Not just me?"
"Yeah." My voice came out thin. "Weird."
