Chapter 23 State Your Intentions
Courtney’s POV
The drive to the clinic was quiet. Not tense. Not awkward. Just… quiet in that way that happens when two people have too much on their minds but don’t feel the need to fill the silence.
I sat in the passenger seat, my injured arm resting carefully in my lap, watching the city pass by through the window. The world outside moved as if nothing had changed—cars rushing by, people crossing streets, life continuing as usual. Meanwhile, everything in our world felt like it was shifting beneath our feet. Daniel Hargrove. Felicia Ardent. The threats. The police presence.
It was all starting to escalate.
And yet, here I was… On my way to a follow-up x-ray. Life didn’t pause for chaos. Damian pulled into the clinic parking lot and parked the car with practiced ease.
“I’ll walk you up,” he said immediately.
I shook my head before he even finished the sentence.
“Nope.”
His brow furrowed.
“Courtney—”
“It’s a follow-up x-ray, not open-heart surgery.”
“You still—”
“I still have legs that work perfectly fine.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“I don’t like you going in alone,” his eyes searched my face.
I softened slightly, reaching my good hand over to smooth the stray locks of hair at his forehead. He caught my hand and pressed a soft kiss in my palm.
“I know.”
And I did. This wasn’t about control. This was about concern. About protection. About everything, he wasn’t saying out loud. I reached over and squeezed his hand gently.
“I’ll be fine. Go park the car properly before you get a ticket.”
He hesitated. Then nodded.
“Call me if anything feels off.”
“I will.”
“Immediately.”
“Damian.”
“Immediately.”
I smiled.
“Yes, immediately.”
He finally stepped out of the car and rounded the front to open my door for me. I gave him a chaste peck on the cheek for being the perfect gentleman and then made my way toward the clinic entrance. The air inside was cool and sterile, carrying that familiar scent of antiseptic and quiet conversations. I checked in at the front desk and took a seat in the waiting area.
For a moment, everything felt… normal. Almost peaceful. I leaned back in the chair, adjusting my arm slightly, when my phone buzzed.
Sarah. Of course. I answered immediately.
“Morning, Sarah.”
“Morning! Sorry to bother you—”
“You’re not bothering me. What’s up?”
“I just wanted to run through your meetings for today.”
I glanced at the clock on the wall.
“Hit me.”
She launched into a detailed rundown—press briefings, internal strategy discussions, a possible media inquiry that needed preemptive handling. Even sitting in a doctor’s office, my brain slipped easily into work mode.
“Push the internal meeting by an hour,” I said. “I want more time to review the Ardent situation.”
“Got it.”
“And flag any media mentions of Hargrove. I don’t like how quiet that’s gone.”
“Already on it.”
I smiled slightly.
“Of course you are.”
There was a brief pause.
“You sure you’re okay?” Sarah asked gently.
I leaned back in my chair.
“I’m fine.”
“Because between the accident and everything else—”
“I said I’m fine,” I repeated, softer this time.
And I meant it. I wasn’t shaken. I wasn’t scared. I was… alert. Focused. Ready.
“Alright,” Sarah said. “I’ll keep things running on this end.”
“Thanks.”
I ended the call and exhaled slowly. Then, almost instinctively, I opened my messages and typed out a quick text.
To Anna: Miss you.
I hit send before I could overthink it. Almost immediately, the corners of my lips lifted. No matter how chaotic things got, Anna was still my constant.
“Courtney?”
I looked up. A nurse stood by the doorway, smiling.
“That’s me.”
“Come on in.”
I stood carefully and followed her down the hallway.
A few minutes later, I was seated in the examination room while the doctor reviewed my latest x-rays. He hummed thoughtfully.
“Well,” he said finally, turning the screen slightly toward me, “this is exactly what we want to see.”
I leaned forward slightly.
“Meaning?”
“Your arm is healing very nicely.”
Relief settled into my chest.
“That’s good to hear.”
“No complications so far.”
“Even better.”
He smiled.
“How’s the pain?”
“Manageable.”
“Still taking the prescribed medication?”
I shook my head.
“Not really.”
His eyebrow lifted.
“Not really?”
“I stopped a couple of days ago.”
“Any particular reason?”
I shrugged.
“I don’t like how it makes me feel.”
“That’s fair.”
He made a few notes.
“Do you need a refill just in case?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
He studied me for a moment. Then nodded.
“Alright. But don’t hesitate to reach out if that changes.”
“I will.”
He gave me a few final instructions before clearing me to leave.
“Keep taking it easy for a bit longer,” he added. “You’re healing well, but you’re not invincible.”
I smiled faintly.
“That’s debatable.”
He chuckled.
“I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”
“Sounds good.”
I stepped out of the examination room and back into the hallway, adjusting the strap supporting my arm. As I turned the corner into the waiting area—
I collided with someone.
“Oh—sorry—”
“Careful.”
A familiar voice. I blinked.
“Detective Carter?”
She steadied me with a hand on my shoulder.
“Easy.”
“I’m fine,” I said quickly.
Her eyes scanned me briefly, as if confirming that.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
She gestured over her shoulder.
“Brought someone in for an X-ray.”
My brow furrowed.
“Who?”
Before she could answer—
“Court?”
I turned. Peter stood a few feet away, an ice pack pressed to his hand. His hair was slightly disheveled. His expression… sheepish.
“Peter?” I walked over to him, my good arm reaching out to his injured one.
“What are you doing here? And why are you icing the same hand you were cradling at the station?”
“I uh, well you see..." Peter stuttered as he avoided my eyes.
I gestured to his hand.
“What did you do? Your brother is here with me. Start talking before I - ”
He winced.
“Long story.”
Detective Carter—sighed.
“He damaged his hand again because he can't control his feelings.”
Peter frowned.
“That’s an oversimplification.”
“You punched a wall.”
“It was an aggressive wall.”
I blinked.
“…I’m not even going to unpack that.”
Emily shook her head, but there was a hint of amusement in her expression. I crossed my arms—well, as much as I could with one functional arm—and looked between them.
“Okay,” I said slowly. “What’s going on here?”
Peter and Emily exchanged a glance. Interesting. Very interesting. I tilted my head.
“Actually… let me rephrase that.”
I looked directly at Emily.
“What’s your relationship with Peter?”
Peter choked slightly.
“Courtney—”
“What?” I said innocently. “I’m asking a question.”
Emily blinked. Then laughed. A genuine, surprised laugh.
“You sound very protective of him.”
“I am.”
I didn’t hesitate.
“Peter, being Damian’s brother, is only part of it.”
Peter’s expression softened slightly. I continued.
“He’s a very dear friend to me.”
My gaze sharpened just a bit. Peter shifted on his feet and avoided my gaze.
“And I’d hate to see him wasting his time running after someone who’s just going to break his heart.”
Peter groaned. “Okay, wow.”
Emily’s lips curved into a small smile.
“That’s very… direct.”
“I’m a direct person.”
“I can see that.”
She crossed her arms, studying me for a moment. Then she said—
“I’ve already told Peter I can’t date him.”
Peter winced again.
“Did you have to say it like that?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Oh?”
I looked back at Emily.
“And why not?”
Her expression shifted slightly. Not uncomfortable. Just… matter-of-fact.
“Because it wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“In what way?”
She hesitated for half a second. Then answered plainly.
“I’m the daughter of his future coach.”
I blinked. Once. Twice. Then I turned slowly to Peter.
“…You’re kidding.”
Peter looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.
“I wish.”
I turned back to Emily.
“At Stanford?”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
I let out a soft, incredulous laugh.
“Of course you are.”
Because why wouldn’t this be complicated? Peter rubbed the back of his neck.
“Yeah… so… that’s a thing.”
I looked between them again. The tension. The chemistry. The very obvious something neither of them was acting on. Then I smiled slightly.
“Well,” I said, “that explains a lot.”
Emily arched a brow.
“Does it?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
Peter groaned again.
“I don’t like where this is going.”
I ignored him. Looking at Emily, I said—
“For what it’s worth… you might want to reconsider.”
Peter snapped his head toward me.
“Courtney!”
“What?” I said calmly.
“I’m just saying.”
Emily’s lips twitched.
“And why is that?”
I smiled.
“Because Peter McKay might be many things…”
I glanced at him.
“…but when he cares about someone?” My voice softened slightly. “He’s all in.”
Peter went quiet. Emily’s expression shifted—just a fraction. Enough for me to notice. I nodded once.
“Just something to think about.”
The waiting area fell into a brief, thoughtful silence. Then Peter cleared his throat awkwardly.
“So… uh… how’s your arm?”
I smirked.
“Nice recovery.”
He grinned sheepishly.
“Thank you, thank you.”
I shook my head, amused. But beneath the lightness of the moment… There was something else. Something unspoken. Because if Peter was heading to Stanford… And Emily was already part of that world— Then this wasn’t the last time their paths would cross. Not even close.