“I’m so fucking sorry,” I blurted, tucking my laptop into my bag and slinging it over my shoulder. “I didn’t mean a word I said. I swear. It wasn’t about you. It was about Tessa.”

She flinched. “You knew?”

“She’d just told me. That day. And I lost it. Temporary insanity. And I know that’s not good enough. I know I don’t deserve a second chance, but I swear to you I didn’t sell you out to Tanner.” I glared at the wall, hoping like hell Tanner felt the effects of the evidence I’d gathered. “He walked in at the wrong fucking time.” I sighed, refocusing on her. “I don’t care what he threatened,” I continued. “I would’ve never given you up.”

She was quiet, too quiet.

“Please, Pixie,” I said. “You have to believe me.”

Her eyes glittered, but she didn’t let a tear fall. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

The air flew out of me, my shoulders dropping. I lowered my gaze to the floor, unable to take her rejection. “I know,” I said. I’d been expecting her to push me away, rightly so, after everything. “You don’t want me here. Don’t want anything to do with me. I get it. I do. But I needed you to know that I was sorry. That I wish like hell I could take back everything I said that day.”

“No,” she said, gripping my chin and forcing me to look at her. “I mean, you aren’t supposed to be here. Today. The TOC.”

Realization clicked, and hope swarmed my chest. “I meant it when I said I loved you,” I said, reaching for her hand. She let me take it and the contact was so damn sweet. “You mean more to me than any tournament.”

“But you’ve been working for that all year—”

“Doesn’t matter. Nothing does, if you’re not mine.”

She sighed. “I made a real mess of things.”

“We both did.” I dared to pull her closer, my free hand falling on the small of her back. “And I should’ve been there for you.”

“You were when it counted.” She glanced toward the room behind us, the vibrations of too many voices talking at once coming through the walls.

I drew our interlocked hands up to my mouth, brushing my lips over the back of her fingers. “Can you forgive me?”

“Can you forgive me?” she asked.

“That had nothing to do with you,” I said. “I shouldn’t have put blame where it wasn’t due.” Tessa had been the one to knock the sense into me. “So,” I said, inching closer to her face. “Can you forgive me?” I asked again, needing her answer more than anything else in the world in that moment.

“After what you did for me today?” She threw her arms around my neck, her lips crushing mine.