[The Following Day]
The soft clink of dishes and the low hum of running water filled the kitchen.
Izan stood in front of the sink, finishing his glass of water after brushing his teeth.
He ran a hand through his hair, still damp from the shower, and glanced toward the living room.
Olivia was curled up in a fleece blanket, sipping coffee with one leg tucked beneath her.
She looked half-asleep, a picture of domestic peace, phone in one hand, a book open on her lap.
"I'm heading out," Izan said, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder as he walked back into the room.
"Don't forget your pass."
Olivia blinked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Pass?"
He gave her a pointed look.
"The one for the match tonight. VIP lounge. Emirates. Tall French centre-backs. Lights. Drama."
A sleepy smile tugged at her lips. "Oh, that."
"Don't 'oh that' me," he grinned.
