His fingers brushed the small of my back as we headed to the parking lot. Players spilled out behind us, whooping and replaying every highlight.
Dare bumped his shoulder into mine. “Dinner?”
My stomach growled loud enough to answer for me.
We ended up at a hole-in-the-wall burger place with music loud enough to rattle the fries. Dare ordered two burgers because, of course, he did. He was still glowing from the win, hair damp, grin impossible to look away from.
He kept glancing at the number on my chest, and I knew what he was thinking before he said it.
“You look good in my jersey,” he said, voice low.
“I can guess what’s on your mind,” I said.
“Oh yeah?”
I smirked. “Yeah.”
“Then I guess I don’t have to say it.”
“I can’t stop thinking about this summer,” I admitted, picking at a corner of my napkin.
He stuffed a fry in his mouth. “The internship?”
I nodded. “They might ask me to come back. Bigger projects this time. I’d get to help pitch concepts.”
“That’s huge, Tru.” He actually paused chewing. “They’d be stupid not to want you.”
My heart did something reckless. “What about you?” I asked. “Still thinking about that rec center job?”
Dare nodded, looking more serious. “Yeah. I wanna build something meaningful there. The kids... they need someone who gets it. I’ve been running some small group stuff—arts, sports, even started a weekly movie night. They’re really showing up.”
My belly did a weird flip, like my body figured out what this meant before my brain did. This wasn’t some wild idea he was chasing. Dare was already there. “You’re already doing it.”
He shrugged. “Trying to.”
My foot connected with his shin under the table. “You’re kind of incredible, you know.”
“You’re biased,” he said, grinning.
“Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
We talked about getting an apartment off campus. Just us. One bedroom. Onebigbed. A kitchenette and not enough closet space, and maybe a plant we’d definitely forget to water. I could picture it a little too clearly. Sunday mornings with Dare in nothing but boxers and socks, dancing around with a toothbrush in his mouth. Me, pretending I was annoyed he finished the cereal, but really just amazed he was still there.
I watched him lick ketchup off his thumb, and my stomach bottomed out.
God, I was sickeningly in love with him.
Dare reached across the table and stole a fry off my plate, making direct eye contact like hewantedto be punched, but knowing I’d never do it.
“If you ever leave again,” he said, “we’re doing New York differently. No more bullshit, Tru. You belong to me. Always have. Distance doesn’t change that.”
I forgot how to chew. The fry went cold in my mouth, forgotten.
He mumbled something after that—something that sounded suspiciously like“Jasper can fuck himself with a fire hose”—but I pretended I didn’t catch most of it.
“Agreed,” I said softly. “No more bullshit.”
He nodded sharply, like it was settled. And it was, because when he grinned at me like that, trying not to broadcast his filthy thoughts, Iknewthere was no one else I’d ever want to share my fries with.
