Eva watched me with an inscrutable expression. Then, she picked up the tray with both our orders and walked toward the booth where her friends sat.
Rory scooted over automatically, and I started to hand Eva her bag, ready to leave?—
Eva nudged Rory. Hard. Rory grinned and pressed even further into the booth, making more space.
Eva slid the tray onto the table, half in front of her, half in front of the empty spot beside her.
Was she?—?
My heart pounded so hard, I could barely hear Sage’s annoyance. “Stop being such an idiot and sit down, Baptiste.”
Eva’s eyes danced with suppressed laughter, but she didn’t look at me or even acknowledge what she was offering.
I slid into the booth before she could change her mind, our thighs pressing together, and it took everything in me not to reach for her hand.
The conversation flowed around me—Sage complaining about her dads, Rory’s upcoming gallery show, and Violetta’s frustrations about her car. Katie and Linh pulled up chairs, giving me suspicious side-eyes but not commenting on my presence at the table.
I didn’t say a word, just unwrapped my burrito and tried to look like I belonged there, like my chest wasn’t tight with the fear that one wrong move would get me exiled again.
Eva laughed at something Sage said, and fuck, she was so beautiful.
When she checked her watch, I tensed, expecting dismissal. Instead, she raised an eyebrow, waiting.
I scrambled out of the booth, grabbing her bag from the floor before she could.
She smiled, bright and genuine, like the sun breaking through clouds.
I followed her out of the café in silence, too afraid to speak and ruin whatever this was. She pulled up the hood of the grey coat Alek and Cole had gotten her and walked toward the library.
My hands shook as I climbed the stairs behind her.
On the third floor, she held out her hand.
I didn’t give her the tote. Instead, I handed her books and notebooks one by one, drawing out the moment, and she rewarded me with a smile she tried to hide.
When she sat down to study, I sat across from her, my heart in my throat.
She didn’t tell me to leave.
At eleven, she packed up for her next class. I stood automatically, shouldering both our bags.
“Eva.” My voice came out rough. Desperate. “Eva, let me take you out to the team’s charity gala this weekend.”
Her green eyes widened. “Like a date?”
“Yeah.”
Emotion flickered across her face—hurt, maybe, or bitterness. “I don’t date, Tristan. You know that.”
I cupped her cheek, my thumb brushing her skin, terrified she’d pull away. “Please. Give me another chance.”
She swallowed hard, and I could see her working through all the reasons to say no, all the ways I’d fucked up, all the trust I’d shattered.
I steeled myself for rejection.
“Okay,” she whispered.
“Okay.” I nodded, disappointment already crushing my chest. “Wait, what?”
