“I did not,” I said. “And I also told you that you were beautiful seconds ago.” I didn’t lose her gaze and was happy that fire was back in her eyes. “I was going to say, you look distracted. Like something is eating at you.” I took the last bite of my fourth taco, occupying myself like I didn’t have a care in the world if she told me what it was or not. If I’d learned anything from Tessa, it was that more often than not, a lot of girls wanted the space and patience and choice to talk. The more you tried to force it out of them, the harder they dug in.

“Oh,” she said, slurping down the green tea like it was oxygen. I understood the need—we all had our go-to fuels that would help push us across a late-night goal. Her eyes went distant again, and I wanted to slide around the table and sit right next to her. Get in her space so much I could crack whatever plagued her mind. “Ran into someone at the game. Didn’t want to.”

A burst of hope exploded inside my chest at her confession. At something real. Something she could’ve easily been vague about or blown me off altogether.

Maybe she was starting to trust me.

Who wouldn’t she want to see?

Oh.

Fuck.

“Brandon?” The name blurted from my mouth, half growl, half question.

She flinched like it physically hurt her.

Damn it, what did he do to you?

“Sorry,” I said. “It’s none of my business.”

“No.” The word blasted all that hope right out of me. “It’s okay,” she said, and those two words amended it in an instant. “I’m just tired,” she said and laughed a little. “I wasn’t at 100 percent to handle his douchery tonight.”

“Fuck him,” I said, loving the shock in her eyes at my declaration.

“Do you even know him?” She swirled a tortilla chip in guac. “It’s not like you run in the same circles.”

I snorted. “That’s for damn sure.” I leaned a little closer over the table. “You and I both know people like us have our own circles.”

“Yeah,” she said, almost a whisper.

“And they normally only include a few people. Sometimes less.”

“Only the ones you can trust,” she added.

“Exactly.”

“But,” she said, blinking a few times as I leaned back in my seat. “Everyone likes you.”

I shrugged. “I’m friendly with a lot of people. That doesn’t mean they’re in my circle. Doesn’t mean I’d call them if I was in deep shit.”

“I get that.” She pushed a stray piece of pink-streaked hair away from her eyes. “It can bite you anyway. Letting people in.”

“Not always,” I assured her.