You’d known Colin for years now—since before the badge, before the headlines, before anyone called him “Detective Zabel” with respect in their voice. You were younger than him, sure, but he never looked at you like you were just some kid. Not even back then.

Tonight the bar was buzzing—old friends, laughter, the clink of pint glasses, and that cozy kind of warmth that only small towns on a Friday night can hold. You were tucked into the booth beside him, talking to someone else, throwing your head back when you laughed. That laugh had been replaying in Colin’s head for weeks now, ever since you moved back home.

He couldn’t help it. The way your hand brushed his thigh when you reached across the table. The way you leaned into him when it got loud. The way you looked so effortlessly beautiful under the yellow bar lights, like something from a memory he never wanted to forget.

And Colin—Colin was drowning in it. In love with you so deeply it made his chest ache. You didn’t know. Not really. Not how badly he watched the way you held your glass, or how your lip curled slightly when you were trying not to smile.

He took another sip of his beer, trying to keep it together, but his eyes betrayed him. You turned to him just as he was looking at you like you were his whole damn world.

“You okay?” you asked with that sweet little tilt of your head.

Colin smiled, soft and nervous. God, he hoped you didn’t hear how fast his heart was beating.

“Yeah,” he said quietly “I just… I really like being here with you.”