Callen didn't remember the walk to his car.

Didn't remember starting the engine or pulling out of Nell's parking lot.

All he knew was that his pulse was still racing, his skin still humming with the memory of her touch, her lips, the way she'd melted against him like she belonged there.

Like they'd been heading toward this moment for a long time without even realizing it.

He flexed his grip on the steering wheel, exhaling slowly as he navigated the quiet streets. The city lights blurred past, but all he could see was her—standing there in his damn jersey, looking way too good in something that was his.

That thought did something to him, twisted something deep in his chest.

Because she was still wearing it. After everything, she was still wearing it.

He ran a hand over his face, letting out a low chuckle. What the hell had just happened?

One minute, he was dropping off her phone. A simple excuse. A reason to see her again without admitting to himself that's exactly what he'd wanted.

The next, he was kissing Nell Jones like she was the only thing that had ever made sense.

And she'd kissed him back.

Not hesitated. Not pulled away. She'd wanted it, too.

His grip tightened on the wheel as he turned onto his street. Maybe he should be second-guessing this. Maybe he should be wondering what it meant, what it would change.

But he wasn't.

Because the only thing on his mind—the only thing that had been clear through all the static—was that it had changed things.

And he wasn't sure he wanted to go back.

Not after this.

Not after her.

He parked in front of his house and shut off the engine, but made no move to get out. Instead, he leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes for a moment.

This is real now.

It had always been there, simmering beneath the surface, in the way they bantered, in the way she challenged him without hesitation. In the way she fit into his world like she was meant to be there.

He just hadn't let himself see it before.

But now?

Now there was no denying it.

His phone buzzed in the cupholder.

He didn't even have to check the screen.

A small smirk tugged at his lips as he grabbed it, already knowing who it was.

Nell: So… was that part of the bet? Or are we making up new rules?

Callen chuckled, shaking his head.

Callen: Pretty sure that was overtime.

A pause.

Then—

Nell: Huh. Guess I don't mind losing after all.

He exhaled sharply, his smirk fading into something softer. Something real.

Yeah.

Neither did he.