She knew it before her eyes even fully registered him—something about the way the air seemed to tighten. He looked irritated. Frustrated. His brows furrowed low, sharp as arrows, his mouth a flat, unforgiving line. And the way his gaze carefully slid past her as though she were invisible? Yeah. That stung. Instead, his eyes landed squarely on Gina, as if Nettie didn’t exist at all.
“You didn’t have to wait.” His voice was clipped, tired.
“Um, yeah, this is part of the whole experience, and I didn’t want Nettie to miss out,” Gina countered easily, lounging back like she owned the place. Her legs crossed, posture relaxed, as though she’d prepared herself for a long siege.
“Let’s go,” Tate muttered, giving a distracted wave to another teammate being scooped up by family. Then he swung his gaze back to Gina, grim. “Come on, and I’ll walk you to your car.”
“I’m good,” Gina tossed back with infuriating calm.
“Why are you so difficult?”
“Genetics?”
“Funny.” Tate’s tone made the word sound anything but. His frown cut sideways—toward Nettie. For the briefest second, their eyes almost met, her pulse leaping in surprise. Then he snapped his focus back to Gina, his irritation crackling in the air. “I’m tired. I don’t want to play stupid mind games or whatever this is, so get up and let’s go.”
“I’m good,” Gina repeated with a sugary edge, and then—before Nettie could even protest—her friend shoved her.
Nettie gave a startled yelp as Gina’s palm pressed into her back, forcing her off the couch. She caught herself awkwardly, stumbling a step, heat rushing to her cheeks. She moved to sit again, but Gina smoothly slid her legs across the empty cushion, claiming the space like a queen on her throne. Nettie froze, wide-eyed, as Gina tipped her chin toward Tate in a silent order.
Nettie’s head snapped back and forth, a firm no, glaring at her friend in silent outrage.
“Oh my gosh, y’all are pathetic,” Tate muttered darkly. His patience was thinning by the second. “What are you—ten? Get up.”
“Still good,” Gina sang back, and then delivered her final blow: “If you are ready to go,why don’t you drop off Nettie at home. I’m going to wait for Justin.”
Nettie felt her stomach twist.Oh no.
“You. Are. Kidding,” Tate hissed, each word sharp enough to cut glass. “Justin is my teammate, and you need to quit throwing yourself in his direction. I rode my motorcycle.”
“I’ve never ridden a motorcycle,” Nettie blurted, alarmed before she could stop herself.
“See?” Tate snapped, seizing her words as ammunition.
“There’s always a first time,” Gina sing-songed, eyes locked with her brother’s in a sibling standoff.
“Gina…”
“I can’t,” Nettie whispered quickly, nerves rising. Her palms felt damp, and she clasped them together. “I mean, I could, but I shouldn’t and…”
“Why shouldn’t you?” Tate asked suddenly, his attention cutting toward her like a spotlight.
The intensity of his gaze made her squirm. His focus was a weight pressing down on her chest, and she nearly shrank back against the couch.
“I could take you if you wanted—but I was pretty sure you’d hate that idea.” His tone softened, though only slightly.
“I know you do.”
“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to.”
“You didn’t offer,” Nettie countered nervously, words tumbling over themselves. “Gina volunteered you, and it would be weird because we’d be sitting together.”
“We’re standing together, and I assure you it’s normal.”
“Tate…”
“Nettie…”
Their voices overlapped, and silence fell between them.
