Kane exhales, annoyed.
“I told some of the guys where I was bringing you,” he says. “Looks like they decided to crash.”
My irritation spikes fast.
“I went out with you,” I say quietly. “Not with him.”
Kane’s jaw tightens — not defensive, just frustrated.
“I didn’t invite a parade, Stell.”
Across the restaurant, Tristan says something to the group but his attention keeps drifting back.
It’s not subtle.
I hate that it affects me.
“What’s going on with you two anyway?” I ask Kane. “You’re supposed to be rivals.”
He glances toward the counter where Tristan’s ordering, then back at me.
“Tristan’s a great guy,” he says simply.
That throws me.
“You’re talking him up?”
“We’re trying to win,” Kane says. “Team chemistry matters.”
I stare at him.
“You know he’s into me, right?”
Kane shrugs.
“Yeah. So what?”
My brain stalls.
“I am too,” he continues. “Not going caveman over it.”
I blink.
“You’re serious.”
He smiles slightly.
“We let you choose, Stell. Not that complicated.”
Nothing about this feels simple.
Across the room, Tristan’s watching us — not possessive, not smug. Just aware. Like he’s waiting for something he can’t control.
And that might be the most destabilizing part of all.
Because the game changed.
And no one told me the rules.
