BGM for this chapter: "Feeling Lucky" – Jackson Wang
"She didn't confess. She didn't need to.The juice said enough. The coffee sealed it.And the napkin? That was her saying—You can come closer now.."
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The next morning, sunlight had just spilled over the sea when the boys were already lined up on the beach.
The wind carried a salty chill, and the sound of waves rolled in rhythm.
At the coach's whistle, they took off running—tall figures, synchronized steps—like a sportswear commercial in motion.
Meanwhile, Celeste was sleeping unusually deep.
She groggily sat up, rubbed the corners of her eyes, and stretched like a cat.
The spa had clearly worked. One hot stone massage, and she knocked out till morning. When she woke up, her whole spine felt like it had been reassembled—weightless, brand new.
"Crap—I overslept!"
She kicked off the covers and shook Muriel. "Dining hall. Five minutes. Move!"
Then she threw on some clothes, tied her hair in a loose bun, and dashed off in her slippers.
The second she stepped into the dining room, her pace slowed on instinct.
Three long tables were neatly set by the windows. Bowls of congee, steamed eggs, milk, protein balls—everything tailored for post-game recovery.
A server approached with a calm smile. "Mr. Bai and Mr. Xi arranged the meals this morning. All items follow the team's dietary plan. And over there—juice, tea, coffee—prepared especially for the ladies. No mango in the juice."
Celeste paused.
A small part of her heart tugged—
After all these years of taking care of others, someone had quietly done the same for her.
Muriel showed up ten minutes later, fully glammed up and breathless from running in heels.
They clinked their juice cups and sat by the window, eyes drifting to the boys running along the beach.
"Hey," Muriel said, squinting into the sun, "don't you think... out of all those guys, yours still looks the most expensive."
Celeste didn't even glance up. "Mine? Don't start."
"Tsk." Muriel nodded seriously toward Nolan, who was leading the pack. "Those legs. That collarbone. That silver chain. Even the way he sweats looks like it costs money."
Celeste nearly choked on her juice. "Can you calm down? He can't even hear you."
"I'm not saying it for him to hear." Muriel smirked. "I'm saying it for you."
Celeste leaned back, pretending not to listen. But when Nolan lifted his shirt to wipe sweat from his brow, those glistening abs...
Well. Can't blame a girl for appreciating the view.
"He likes you, you know," Muriel said, tone suddenly softer. "I saw it ages ago."
"What? From where?" Celeste blinked.
"Literally the whole team sees it."
"He treats everyone the same," Celeste said calmly.
"But the way he looks at you? Definitely not the same," Muriel teased, poking her arm. "You were spacing out the entire spa session yesterday. Don't lie to me."
The two girls burst into laughter, warm sunlight spilling through the windows.
Outside, the waves rolled in.
The breeze carried the ocean's salt—and something a little sweeter.
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☕ Breakfast: A Cup, A Code
Celeste joined the table with the coach, listening as he briefed everyone on the day's training schedule.
Drinks were delivered one by one. When she picked up her coffee and took a sip—salted caramel.
She blinked.
But said nothing.
She listened quietly, all the way through the briefing. Then everyone stood to get food.
That's when she felt it—that gaze.
She looked up.
Not far off, Jett and Nolan were sitting together. Jett gave her a sneaky glance.
She raised a brow. "Was it you?"
Jett shrugged lazily, but his eyes flicked toward Nolan, as if to say, "Don't look at me—ask your man."
Celeste didn't smile. Didn't answer.
Instead, she pulled out a napkin and began to sketch.
A few strokes later, a small cartoon appeared:
A sleepy little fish, wide-eyed, dangling from a hook made of candy, with a tag hanging from its tail that read—
"Thanks."
She folded it into a tiny square and placed it beside Nolan's phone. Then walked off to get her salad.
Nolan opened the napkin.
Stared for a few seconds.
The drawing made zero sense. But it was cute. His lips curved before he realized.
He handed the napkin to Jett.
Jett glanced at it, then burst out laughing. "Dude, that's permission."
Nolan frowned. "What do you mean?"
Jett didn't answer.
He just smirked, eyes still on the napkin.
He'd always protected Celeste—never let people get too close.
But this time, he'd told Nolan everything—her favorite flavors, her routines, the tiny details that meant she'd noticed.
This wasn't a confession. It was permission.
She wasn't touched because Nolan was thoughtful—
She was touched because it was him.
And this.....
This was her way of saying:
You can come closer now.
Jett leaned back and exhaled.
"You better not mess it up." he muttered, bumping Nolan's arm.