“I don’t want to worry about you on the road.”
“I’m not your concern—and you?—”
“Stop it,” he snapped, the words cracking through the air like a whip. He dragged in a breath, exhaled, then gave her a lopsided smirk that softened nothing and everything at once. “Were they mean to you? Is it too gaudy?”
“Mean? Gaudy?” Nettie blinked at him, incredulous. “No, they were very kind – and are we even looking at the same car? It’s stunning and…”
“You like it?” His tone gentled, and when he reached out, his hand brushed against hers. He was asking her opinion, like she mattered, and as fragile as she felt right now?
That single touch undid her.
Her composure crumbled. The tears she’d been holding back surged free, and before she could stop herself, she was reaching for him at the same moment his arms opened. She folded against his chest, breathing in the warm, familiar scent of him—leather, soap, and something uniquely Tate. Disbelief, amazement, guilt, and longing spun wildly inside her, leaving her breathless and trembling— and she just needed a hug.
Now.
From anyone.
Even Tate.
“Shhh…” Tate crooned, his voice soft and steady, a balm against the chaos in her chest. “I’m so much better at handling hissing and biting than tears—ask Mulligan.”
A startled laugh escaped her, tangled with tears, and she hiccupped against him. Pulling back slightly, she sniffed indelicately and wiped her eyes. “I’m not biting you.”
“Darn,” he deadpanned, though his eyes glimmered with teasing warmth.
“You can’t just…” she started, a curl of pleasure spiking through the haze of anxiety as she realized he wasn’t just gifting her a car but teasing her too.
“I can. I did. I will – every single time,” he cut in firmly. “If you don’t like that one, then pick anything you like on the lot. I don’t care what you choose, but choose one today.”
Her mind scrambled for something, anything, to regain her footing. “I’ll pay you back,” she blurted automatically, her brain already spinning with impossible calculations of how she could. But his mouth curved in a knowing smile.
“In deeds,” he murmured suggestively, his voice dropping low as his eyes held hers. Nettie stiffened, jerking back.
“I’m not sleeping with you for a car,” she hissed, shame and anger mixing hot in her chest. His eyebrow arched, amused.
“Yup. I like the hissing much better,” he chuckled. “I meant maybe you could teach me how to cook something from scratch. Or show me how to knit, Sticks.”
“How to knit sticks?” she echoed, bewildered, before realizing her mistake. His laughter rang out, rich and unguarded, and she found herself staring. This wasn’t the Tate she remembered—the bitter, sharp-edged boy who’d always pushed her away. This man was different. Softer. Playful.
“No, not knitting a bunch of sticks together. I think I’m gonna call you ‘Sticks’ from now on…”
“Then I won’t answer you,” she sputtered, heat rising in her cheeks. He was giving her a nickname? Had the whole world gone crazy?
“Why?”
“BecauseSticksis a dumb name.”
“I’m a dumb guy who’s made a lot of dumb mistakes in his life,” he shrugged, eyes never leaving hers.
Her heart squeezed. “No, you aren’t…” She faltered, the words tumbling to a halt as he drew her closer again.
The air thickened between them, every second stretching taut as he leaned in, so close his nose nearly brushed hers as he stared into her eyes. Nettie’s breath caught, her lungs forgettingtheir purpose as his gaze held hers, and a single thought exploded in her mind as she held still - waiting.
Was he about to kiss her?
“We’re changing things,” he whispered, his voice firm, resolute. “Today, things are gonna be different. I’m stepping forward, taking the shot, and putting every ounce of energy into this—so are you gonna meet me halfway, Sticks? Are we ready for a new twist in whatever game this is?”
Her pulse hammered. “Don’t call me that—and this isn’t a game.”
