“You literally are.”
“It’s called reacting to messages.”
“From Mason Reed.”
“Still messages.”
Serena grabbed my laptop. “What did he say?”
“Don’t—”
Too late.
She read it.
Then paused.
Then looked at me slowly.
“Oh.”
“What.”
“He’s not just flirting with you.”
“I never said he was flirting.”
“You didn’t have to.”
I snatched my laptop back. “You’re overthinking it.”
Serena raised an eyebrow. “Says the girl who hasn’t stopped replying for two hours.”
That… was inconveniently accurate.
MASON
Practice ended late.
Coach finally cut us loose after making us run full-court sets until nobody could breathe properly.
Locker room was loud again.
Normal chaos.
Luca was sitting on the bench scrolling through his phone when I came in.
“You’re still texting her?” he asked immediately.
“No.”
Luca held up his phone.
Rowan’s Instagram story was open.
My face apparently in the background of a blurry screenshot someone posted from campus.
Great.
