I rolled my eyes. “Because Parker and Jace are stalkers already. I don’t need another one in my life.”
Jace raised an eyebrow, not looking perturbed at all that I’d called him a stalker. Between the tracker he’d put in the weird friendship bracelet around my wrist and the fact that he’d done things that were illegal in every country to get his girl, Riley, there really was no arguing with me. He and Parker were, in fact, stalkers.
And I was still shocked about that fact every day.
“I really don’t think it’s that,” Jace mused. “I think it’s because you’re scared she’s going to be hotter than you expected, and then you would have to talk to her. And we all know how that would go.”
“Shut up,” I muttered. “I happen to be very good with the ladies.”
He grinned. “You didn’t say I was wrong about you being scared.”
I scoffed and lifted the bar again, unable tonotthink about that car.
At first, I thought it was nothing. We’ve all got fans. Some cling harder than others. But she never approached, never calledout, never left notes or tried to follow me off campus. She just… watched.
And somehow, that was worse.
“You really don’t want to know?” Parker asked, watching me like he already knew the answer.
“No,” I said, too fast. Then, because Jace was already smirking, “Look, it’s not hurting anybody. She’s not showing up to the house, she’s not interfering with games, she’s just—there.”
Garrett tilted his head. “There, like…quiet and creepy? Or there, like…comforting in a weird way?”
I shot him a look. “Why would it be comforting?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, man. Some people like being admired.”
Jace leaned forward, grin spreading. “Yeah, like the guy who pretends he doesn’t notice, but definitely looks for the car every time he leaves practice.”
“I do not,” I said automatically.
Except I did.
And we all knew it.
Parker laughed softly. “You so do.”
I gritted my teeth as I tried not to drop the weights on my head. “You know what? Maybe I like consistency. Sue me.”
Garrett smirked. “Consistency. That’s what we’re calling it?”
Jace whistled. “Sounds like you’ve developed a littleemotional attachmentthere, Matty-kins. Sounds almost like looove.”
“Don’t start,” I warned.
But they were already laughing.
And the thing was, I didn’t even know why I hadn’t done anything.
I could’ve gone to security. Or even just walked up and knocked on her window one day.
But I didn’t.
Because something about it—the stillness, the silence—made me feel weirdly…seen.
Not in the fame sense. Not the autograph, camera, NIL contract kind of seen.
Something else.
