I could tell him. About Isabelle. The bet. The way this started as a joke and turned into something that could ruin me.
He’d tell me to come clean. Tonight. Before I do real damage.
He’d be right.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I lie instead. “It’s just…new.”
“New,” he repeats. “Meaning?”
“Meaning I’m not trying to turn this into something it’s not.” I hesitate. “Or rush her into something she didn’t ask for.”
Liam studies me for a long beat. Then his voice softens.
“So you’re not there yet.”
“No,” I say. “We’re not.”
He nods once. “Okay.” Then, firmly, “But if you’re in deeper than you are admitting to, you don’t handle it alone. You hear me?”
“I hear you.”
Dmitri appears, towels slung over his shoulder. “Hot tub,” he announces.
Liam claps my shoulder. “Don’t screw this up.”
As if I don’t already know.
Steam lifts into the night,cold air biting exposed skin. Stars scatter across the black sky, sharp and endless this far fromthe city. Glasses line the railing. Erin drapes over Dmitri’s shoulder, Sophie tucks under Liam’s arm, Jessica steals Finn’s drink, and Eden leans into Nate.
Then Wren steps out.
Oversized sweater. Bare legs. Hair twisted up in a loose knot. She looks small and solid at the same time—quiet confidence, no performance. She perches on the edge of the tub, toes skimming the surface, testing the heat.
Then she pulls the sweater over her head.
Fuuuck.
A navy Speedo. No fuss. No glitter. Just function. And yet…
She slips into the water beside me, and I have to consciously breathe. I make space I don’t want to make, stare at the water like it might save me. My grip tightens on the rim.
“Breathe, rookie,” Finn murmurs.
“Hands visible,” Dmitri adds.
Laughter breaks the moment. I don’t join it.
Her thigh brushes mine under the water—barely there. Heat races up my spine. I shift carefully, hyperaware of every inch we’re not touching.
“You okay?” she asks, quiet.
“Fine,” I manage.
The conversation swirls around us—playoff stories, arguments about defense, background noise. I can’t track any of it. Every cell in my body is tuned to the girl beside me and the space between us that feels impossibly thin.
She leans closer, voice low. “You sure you’re okay on the couch? The bed’s huge. We’d both fit.”
I nearly choke.
