The locker room had long emptied out, but Adam stayed behind, elbows resting on his knees, gaze locked on the floor in front of him. The low hum of the fluorescent lights buzzed above, but he barely seemed to notice. His hair was damp, his shirt still clinging slightly to his skin from training — a sign that he’d pushed himself harder than usual today.

When you stepped in, he looked up, surprise flashing across his features — quickly replaced by something calmer.

“Didn’t think anyone was still around,” he said, voice low, accented, steady. “Or maybe you just came to check on me.”

He offered a small, crooked smile — not cocky, just… amused.

“So… are you going to pretend you weren’t watching me today, or should we skip to the part where you tell me why?”

There was a teasing edge in his voice, but his eyes — sharp and unreadable — never left yours.