“So,” he says, voice low and amused. “You bought me.”
“Technically I bought a date. And technically, I panicked.”
He crosses his arms, eyes glinting with something I can’t quite read. Amusement, maybe. Or satisfaction. “That explains the seventy-five.”
“It was for charity!” My voice comes out higher than intended. “The youth rink fund. That’s a very important cause.”
“Uh-huh.” He leans closer, forearms resting on the table. I can smell his cologne. Something clean and sharp that makes my brain short-circuit.
He lowers his voice. “You realize what this means, right?”
“What?” I manage.
“You owe me dinner. Publicly.”
I blink. “That’s not how auctions work. You owe me the date. I’m the winner.”
He smiles. Slow and wicked and beautiful. “Guess we’ll see.”
Before I can respond, before I can process the fact that we’re actually talking again and he’s not running away, someone calls from across the room.
“Hey, Blockton! You two make a cute couple!”
The whole place laughs. Knowing laughs. Small-town laughs that say everyone’s been watching this unfold.
I look up to fire back something witty. Something deflecting.
But Jude’s expression has shifted. The smile’s gone. That careful mask sliding back into place.
“I should go,” he says abruptly.
“Wait, what?—”
But he’s already moving toward the exit.
My dad appears from somewhere, clapping Jude on the shoulder as he passes. “Blockton! Didn’t know my daughter had such good taste.” Dad’s grinning, clearly thinking this is hilarious. “Guess I’ll have to approve all your plays extra carefully now, huh? Make sure you’re good enough for my girl.”
He’s joking. Obviously joking. That’s just how Dad talks.
But Jude’s jaw tightens. “Coach.”
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Dad laughs, squeezing Jude’s shoulder. “Though you better treat her right. I know where you work.”
More jokes. So much for the stern coach persona that would come in handy about now.
Jude nods stiffly and continues toward the door.
I grab my coat and head outside. The cold hits me immediately, sharp and biting.
The parking lot is mostly empty now. Just a few cars left.
Jude’s truck is still here but he’s not in it. He’s standing near the community center’s side entrance, hands shoved in his pockets, staring at nothing.
I’m about to call out to him when I hear voices.
Two guys from the team. Dax and someone else I don’t recognize. They’re walking to their cars, close enough that I can hear them clearly.
“Did you see Blockton up there?” Dax laughs. “Coach’s daughter bought him. That’s hilarious.”
