"I'm still figuring things out," Rachel said. She reached for her water glass, and Mac noticed her hand was shaking slightly. "I don't plan that far ahead anymore."
Nobody moved.
"That's totally fair," Ellie said quickly. "Sometimes you have to see how things unfold."
"Exactly," Rachel said, but she'd pulled back into herself, her shoulders tense.
Mac wanted to reach for her hand under the table, wanted to tell Luke to back off, wanted to fix this. But something told him Rachel wouldn't welcome the intervention right now. She didn't want to be protected. She didn't want to be a problem that needed solving.
"Who wants another beer?" Jamie called out suddenly, his voice a little too loud, a little too bright. A few hands went up halfheartedly. Most glasses were still three-quarters full.
Mac glanced at Jamie, confused, then followed his line of sight to the bar.
Sophie had just walked in, talking to Coach Davies about something, probably team scheduling or administrative stuff. She laughed at something the coach said, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear.
Jamie's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. His fingers drummed once against the table, then stilled. His gaze lingered on Sophie for a beat too long before he forced his attention back to the group, plastering on his usual easy grin.
"They're on me," Jamie announced, already pushing back from the table.
He headed toward the bar, but his path took him deliberately wide of where Sophie stood. She glanced up as he approached, their eyes meeting for a fraction of a second before Jamie turned sharply toward the bartender, his shoulders rigid.
Sophie's smile faltered. She said something else to Coach Davies, then quickly headed toward the back office.
Mac filed that away for later. Something was definitely going on there.
"Anyway," Luke said, apparently oblivious to the tension he'd created, "Mac, you still coming to practice tomorrow?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Mac's attention snapped back.
"I'm saying, you've been distracted all week. Missing passes, spacing out during drills—"
"That's not—" Mac's face heated. This was exactly what he didn't want. His team making a big deal out of this in front of Rachel, implying he was so wrapped up in her that he couldn't focus, making it sound like she was a problem, a distraction, something that was affecting his game—
Except hehadbeen distracted. And itdidfeel serious to him. Maybe that was the problem.
Rachel stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. "I need the restroom."
"I'll come with you," Ellie said immediately, already on her feet, her hand on Rachel's arm.
Mac watched them weave through the crowded pub toward the back hallway, his stomach sinking with every step.
"Nice job, everyone," Cole said dryly once they were out of earshot. He fixed Luke with a withering stare. "Especially you."
"What did I do?" Luke looked genuinely confused.
"You asked if she was staying long-term. That's a lot of pressure, Luke." Cole shook his head.
"I was making conversation!"
"You were being Luke," Jamie said back with the beers.
Mac rubbed his face. "I'm an idiot for bringing her here."
"You're not an idiot," Cole said firmly. "But maybe slow down a bit."
"I don't know how to slow down," Mac admitted. “I like her a lot.”
"We know." Jamie's voice was surprisingly gentle. "We all can see that. But Mac? She looks like she's waiting for something to go wrong."
