“It’s not amess,” she says gently. “It’s chemistry. Chaos-flavored, sure. But it’s not nothing.”
I exhale. “But that gift was from a man trying to fall in love, and theemail was from a man trying to walk back a mistake. Two sides to the coin. Guess he got a taste and decided he didn’t want seconds.”
Maya tilts her head. “That’s not true. What did the email say exactly?”
I swallow. “Said we got swept up in something. That it was probably just a moment.”
The words sting more out loud than they did on screen.
“Oh, babe,” she whispers.
“Yeah.” I force a smile. “So much for the highlight reel.”
Maya shifts in her seat.
“I scared something off before I even had the chance to hold it,” I say quietly, staring down at the table. “That’s the pattern, right? I feel too deeply, want or need too much, and the second it shows, I watch them run. It’s my specialty. Pushing men to their limit just by existing.” I swallow hard. “Nolan ran for the same reason they all do. Wanting me means having to stay, means handling real emotions, real fire, real fucking weight. And that’s too much for men like him. Men who’ve only ever been taught how to win, the easy, not how to fight.”
Maya doesn’t say anything right away. She reaches across the table and hooks her pinky with mine like we’re sixteen and trying to swear away the worst parts of life. “You didn’t scare anything off. You did what you always do when the ground feels shaky, you tried to make it solid. That’s not wrong. That’s you surviving.”
I look up, throat tight.
“And sometimes,” she adds, her voice stronger now, “survival looks like control. But giving in to your feelings is not weakness, Rorie. That’s brave as hell. Especially for someone who’s convinced she has to earn love by being invincible.”
I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “One bathroom hookup and suddenly I’m fraying at the seams.”
“Rorie.” Her voice is still firm, anchored. “You are intense. And brilliant. And turbulent in the best way. Anyone who can’t handle that doesn’t get to keep you.”
A breath stutters out of me, brittle and raw. “So I didn’t blow it?”
She squeezes my hand. “He’s the one that blew it. You showed himwho you really are. And if he walks away from that? Then he was never supposed to stay.”
My eyes sting. I blink fast, but it doesn’t stop the prickle behind them. “Jesus. Why are you right at the worst possible times?”
Maya smiles, gentle and a little smug. “Because I’ve been exactly where you are. I know when a woman starts to confuse beingrealwith beingtoo much.”
We sit in silence for a while. Me with my heartbreak, her with her clarity. Two women refusing to shrink for anyone, even when it would be easier.
I sniff. Sit up straighter. “Alright. So… what’s our game plan?”
Maya leans back, collecting herself. “We show up. We bring fire. We win this Pitchpocalypse. We prove,once again, that we don’t need a man—or a headline—to dominate a pitch.”
I grin. “Words from a true strategist.”
Her eyes sparkle again. We clink glasses, a silent agreement passing between us.
Asher can keep his secrets.
Nolan can keep his distance.
We’ll keep our crowns.
And tomorrow, we rise.
CHAPTER 32
HOT FRIES, COLD FEET
NOLAN
