That was the first honest thing he’d said in a while.
It made everything worse.
Because now it wasn’t confidence.
It was reaction.
Unfiltered.
Mason ran a hand through his hair, finally looking away.
“I’ve got practice review,” he said.
But he didn’t leave.
Not immediately.
Like something was still unsaid.
I should’ve let it go.
I didn’t.
“You’ve been weird all day,” I said.
“I’m not weird.”
“You are right now.”
Silence.
Then:
“Maybe I just don’t like distractions.”
That should’ve been casual.
It wasn’t.
It was aimed.
Even if he didn’t fully mean it that way.
I crossed my arms. “I’m a distraction now?”
His eyes snapped back to mine.
That was fast.
Too fast again.
“You’re not—” he started.
Stopped.
Restarted.
“You’re not the problem.”
