The dock was long and creepy, stretching out in front of them like some kind of dark hallway in a horror movie. The only sounds were the black water going slap-slap against the wooden posts and this annoying creaky noise from a crane somewhere far away. Like, who even leaves a crane running at night? Weird.

They’d been walking forever, or maybe twenty minutes, but it felt like forever, squeezing between shipping containers that smelled like rust and old cardboard. Every time they peeked inside one, it was just junk, moldy boxes. Chains so rusty they looked like they’d crumble if you touched them, and broken glass everywhere that made this awful crunch noise under their shoes. The worst.

No Apex Records logo, no new papers. Nothing that even hinted at the man they were looking for. Honestly? The whole pier was just... sad. Like a graveyard for forgotten stuff, where every shadow just hid more rust and rot.

Then, they turned a corner near a big open area with cracked concrete and half-sunk boats when Aiko’s stupid sneaker got caught on a thick, oily cable lying around like a snake.

She didn’t even have time to yell. One second she was walking, the next, wham, her knee hit the concrete hard, her hands slapping down to catch herself. A little "eep!" noise escaped her before she could stop it.

It was way louder than it should’ve been.

Aiko gritted her teeth, already yanking at the stupid cable wrapped around her ankle.

"Ugh! Stupid, " she hissed, like the cable personally mocked her.

in front of her, Nash, who’d taken two steps ahead, stopped dead and turned. His face was calm, but his mouth did this tiny twitch like he was trying not to laugh.

"Nice," he said crouching next to her. "Real subtle cover-blowing. Ten outta ten."

Aiko glared up at him, her face going red.

"Shut up, bozo! This place is, like, made to make people trip!" She finally got the cable off and rubbed her knee, pouting like a kid who dropped their ice cream. "I’m fine. Mostly."

Before Nash could say anything else, movement.

Three drunk sailors, smelling like cheap booze and bad life choices, had been leaning against some junk nearby. Now? All three were staring at Aiko sprawled on the ground.

The biggest one, broad shoulders, neck tattoo of what was supposed to be an anchor, but looked more like a blob, grinned and stepped forward.

"Damn, sweetheart," he slurred. "You good? Looked like it hurt."

The other two, one skinny with a gnarly scar on his cheek, the other shorter but built like a fridge, moved with him. Both were looking at Aiko like she was lunch.

Aiko’s stomach dropped. She scrambled back on her hands, knee throbbing, suddenly very aware of how bad this could get. Places like this? Women didn’t just fall and get helped up.

Not unless "help" meant hands where they shouldn’t be... or even worse.

But, thank god, Nash was already moving.

One smooth step and he was right there, tall and solid between her and the creeps. Didn’t even raise his voice. Just stood there, calm as a rock, one hand reaching back toward her without looking.

"Easy," he told her.

Then he turned his head just enough to look at the sailors.

The big one’s grin faltered. Nash was bigger, and something about the way he didn’t even blink made the air feel heavier.

"She’s fine," Nash said, voice chill. "Just tripped. Happens."

The skinny guy tried to laugh.

"Yeah? Looked like she needed help. We’re real good at helping pretty girls up."

The human fridge smirked.

"Real good. C’mon, sweetheart. Let us check you out. Make sure nothin’s broken."

Aiko’s breath hitched. She pressed against Nash’s back, eyes wide. The way they said it, their tone, made her skin crawl.

Nash didn’t move. Just put his hand flat against Big Guy’s shoulder.

The guy blinked, looked down, then up at Nash.

"She’s with me," Nash said. "And she’s okay. So you can keep walking."

The sailor’s grin twitched. He puffed up.

"Who the hell are you to tell us, "

Nash tilted his head slightly. The lamplight caught his jaw. He didn’t even look angry. Just looked at the guy, calm, patient, and zero fear.

It was enough to crack the big guy’s bravado. His eyes flicked over Nash again, the height, the muscle under his hoodie, the total lack of nerves, and suddenly, he wasn’t so drunk anymore.

"...Fine," he muttered, stepping back. "Your girl. Whatever."

The other two exchanged glances. The skinny one mumbled something, but they backed off, walking away but giving nasty looks over their shoulders.

Nash waited until they were gone. Only then did he turn to Aiko, offering his hand.

She took it. He pulled her up gently, steadying her when her knee wobbled

"You hurt?" he asked.

Aiko shook her head, too fast.

"N-no. Just... bruised. And embarrassed." She rubbed her stinging palms together, voice small. "Sorry. I didn’t mean to..."

Nash squeezed her hands once, quickly, before letting go.

"Not your fault. This place is a death trap."

He glanced where the sailors had gone.

"But next time... stick to me like glue. No space between us until we’re out."

Aiko swallowed hard. She could still feel those guys staring. The way they’d talked about "checking her over." It made her stomach twist. But Nash, calm Nash, heroic Nash, fantastic gentleman, felt like armor around her.

She nodded and stepped closer until her shoulder bumped his arm.

"Yeah," she whispered. "Glued."

Nash gave her the tiniest nod, almost approving, then started walking again.

Aiko followed, right at his side this time, heart racing, but not just from fear now.

She felt small. She felt scared.

But with him there... she also felt safe.

They kept moving, deeper into the dark, shoulder to shoulder.

The pier was long and creepy, like one of those places in horror movies where bad stuff always happens. Rusty shipping containers were stacked like drunk guys leaning on each other; the ladders were all slippery from the damp air, and the chains hanging overhead made weird groaning sounds.

Aiko tried to be helpful at first. She’d shine her phone light into dark spaces and whisper excitedly, "Oh! I think I saw something over there!" But every single time? Just moldy boxes or dead rats.

Nash would give this little nod, mutter "Good eye," and keep walking.

Honestly? That "Good eye" started to feel like when adults pretend your crayon drawing of a dog is amazing even though it looks like a potato with legs.

And Aiko was not a kid. This was the same girl who’d stood right in front of Nash wearing just a thin t-shirt, with no bra, whispering "do it", and all she got was "Good eye"? Come on.

By the fifth container, Aiko stopped trying so hard with the whole ’helping’ thing. She’d still point at shadows, sure, but mostly she was focusing on... other tactics.

Like "accidentally" brushing her shoulder against Nash’s when they crouched down. Or bumping her hip against his while walking. Or leaning in way too close during a stakeout so her twintails would tickle his neck, that’s gotta be annoying, right?

"You know, Nash," she said, scooting closer in the dark, "this is actually kinda romantic. Just us two out here in the middle of nowhere..."

"Shh." Nash didn’t even look at her.

Ten minutes later, hiding behind this forklift that looked like it hadn’t worked since the 90s, she pressed right up against him, chest against his arm.

"If we don’t find anything soon," she murmured, "maybe we could take a little break? That dark spot by the barges looks... cozy."

"Eyes open, Aiko."

Still nothing. Ugh.

At this point, Aiko was getting seriously frustrated. That heat from their alley encounter earlier? Yeah, it wasn’t going away; in fact, it burned hotter every time Nash shut her down. So she got reckless.

While Nash was busy inspecting a container, Aiko stepped right in front of him and stretched her arms way up high. Her crop top rode up, revealing her pale stomach and the curve beneath her chest. She arched her back extra hard for good measure.

"It’s so hot in here," she complained, fanning herself dramatically. "I’m sweating everywhere. My top’s practically glued to me..."

Nash glanced over for maybe half a second.

"It’s ok. We’re almost done with this section."

Nothing. No reaction. Not even a longer look.

Aiko’s face burned hotter than the embarrassment she should be feeling.

At the next stakeout spot, she went beyond. Tugging at her crop top’s hem, fanning it up and down like she was overheating, and maybe she was, but not from the weather.

"Ugh, these leggings are the worst," she groaned. "So tight... it was a mistake... to not wear anything under them..."

She waited. This HAD to get a reaction.

Nash scanned the container and nodded without looking.

"Good thinking. Easier to move that way."

Aiko froze.

Good thinking.

He hadn’t even glanced her way. Still staring into that stupid crate like she’d suggested wearing better shoes or something.

That was it. The final straw. The last damn nerve.

She stepped directly in front of him, blocking his path completely, hands on hips.

"Okay, that’s it!" she hissed.

Nash stopped like he’d hit a wall.

"Uh... what?" he said, blinking. "Aiko, what the hell is going on?"

She didn’t let him recover.

"You’re ignoring me!" she snapped, stepping closer until her chest almost bumped his. "You keep shh-ing me like I’m an annoying background noise! You praise me like I’m five years old, ’good eye,’ ’careful,’ ’good thinking’, it’s so condescending! And the worst part? You don’t even notice me! I told you I’m basically naked under these clothes, and you just... nod? Like it’s nothing?!"

Nash’s hands came up automatically, palms out.

"I, I’m not ignoring you," he stammered, sounding genuinely confused. "I’m trying to keep us on track here."

"That’s your excuse for everything!" she cut in, voice shaking now. "Keep us on track, keep us focused, keep us quiet, fine! But what about me? What about the girl who’s been dying for you to look at her like you did back then? You act like I’m invisible unless I’m tripping over cables or pointing at empty crates!"

Nash blinked again, tilting his head like she was speaking alien. Did she forget why they were here?

"Invisible? Aiko, I’ve seen every single thing you’ve done tonight. Every bump, every lean, every time you stretched. I noticed. I just..."

"Then why don’t you do anything?!" she stepped right up to him now, close enough that her breath hitched against his chest. "Why do you just keep walking? Why do you keep shutting me down? Do you even want me anymore? Or was all that stuff just... I don’t know, pity? Because I keep waiting for you to do something, anything, and you just keep doing anyone, except me!"

Nash’s mouth opened, closed, opened again. For once, the guy looked completely lost.

"Aiko... slow down," he tried, voice softer now. "I’m not ignoring you. I swear. I’m just..."

"You are!" she insisted, eyes starting to shine with frustrated tears she refused to shed.

"You’re ignoring every single hint! Every single time I try to get close! I’m literally standing here in this stupid outfit, sweating, practically naked, and you just... ’good thinking’? ’Stay focused’? What am I supposed to think? That you don’t want me? That I’m just some annoying tag-along you have to babysit?"

Nash’s hands hovered awkwardly between them, like he couldn’t decide whether to touch her or back away.

"That’s not, Aiko, no. That’s not it at all. I want you. I’ve wanted you since the beginning. But right now..."

"Right now what?!" she shot back, voice cracking. "Right now you’re too busy being Mr. James Dump to notice the girl who’s been ridiculing herself all night? You think I don’t know how dangerous this place is? I do! But I still came. I still followed you. Because I wanted to be with you. And all I get is ’shh’ and little pats on the head like I’m some kid who drew a nice picture!"

Nash exhaled hard, rubbing the back of his neck like it ached. His eyes searched her face like he was looking for the right words, which was new, because Nash always had the right words. Always.

"I’m not patting you on the head," he said carefully. "I’m trying to keep you safe. I’m trying to keep us both focused. If I stop, if I give in right now, I’m scared I won’t be able to stop. And this isn’t the place for that. Not when one wrong sound could get us both noticed by some drunkards."

Aiko’s lower lip trembled. She looked down at her sneakers, suddenly feeling small again.

"I know that," she mumbled. "I know. But... I just wanted some proof. That you actually want me. Not just... tolerate me. Why didn’t you do anything in the locker room? Or in the alley? Why everyone but not me?"

Nash hesitated, really hesitated. The whole pier seemed to hold its breath.

Then he stepped forward, hands settling gently on her shoulders. His thumbs rested lightly against the bare skin above her collarbones, and Aiko felt the contact like a spark shooting straight down her spine. He tilted her chin up with one thumb, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"You’re really attractive, Aiko," he said. "More than attractive. You’ve been driving me crazy since the locker room... even before that. Every time you push, every time you tease, every time you talk back with that cute attitude... it takes everything I have not to drag you into the nearest shadow and show you exactly what losing your mind feels like."

Aiko’s breath caught, a small, shaky sound she couldn’t hide. Her lips parted instinctively. The flush on her face deepened, spreading down her throat until even her collarbones looked pink in the gross yellow light.

Nash’s gaze dropped to her mouth for a long second, way too long, before dragging back up to her eyes.

"I keep telling myself we have to wait," he murmured. "That this isn’t the place, but you’re standing here looking at me like that... and all I can think about is how your lips felt when you said ’do it.’ How your skin looked under those lights back in the stall. How every single time you brush against me, I have to remind myself we’re not alone."

Aiko’s knees felt weak. She leaned into his hold without thinking, rising onto her toes, closing the last few inches between them. Her hands came up, fingers curling into the front of his hoodie, clutching like she needed an anchor.

"Then stop saying it with your sweet words," she whispered, voice trembling. "Just... once. Just do it for real... Please."

Nash’s thumbs stilled on her shoulders. For one endless second. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe, like he was giving himself one last chance to walk away.

Then he didn’t.

He leaned down, slow enough she could feel every millimeter disappearing between them. His breath brushed her lips first, warm, unsteady, and Aiko’s eyes closed. She tilted her head just a fraction, lips parting.

His mouth was almost on hers. Close enough, she could feel his heat, the promise of everything she’d been begging for all night.

And then... His phone buzzed in his pocket.