Nadia headed for the bottom left apartment, one that didn’t have flowers, or anything, to make it feel less institutional. She dropped my hand to dig out her keys and unlock the door.

“Home sweet home,” she muttered, flicking on the overhead light.

I wasn’t sure what to expect, but her place looked like any other generic college apartment featuring hand-me-down furniture interspersed with IKEA finds. A single open space contained the living room and kitchen with several doors branching off from it, a bathroom and two bedrooms if I had to guess.

Nadia set her bag down on the two-person dining table and raised her arms to encompass the room. “It’s not much, but it’s mine. Well, mine and Abbey’s. The couch was a gift from her parents, which was amazing because the previous one would stab you as soon as you sat on it. We don’t really spend much time in here.”

I shoved my hands in the pockets of my sweats as she trailed off. “Cozy.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear—she’d traded her stars for simple gold studs. “I’m babbling because I’m nervous.”

“I told you, Em. You’re in charge of what happens between us.” I didn’t care about her furniture, but I sat down anyway, trying to put her at ease. “Come talk to me. You can lecture me again about how volunteering is the path to sainthood.”

Nadia narrowed her eyes, and I knew I had her. “You said you enjoyed yourself.”

“Did I say that?” I rolled my lips together to keep the smile inside as she circled the couch and plopped down next to me.

“I know what you’re doing.”

“Having a conversation with a beautiful woman?”

She pointed a finger in my face. “Stop that. Flattery won’t get you out of a lecture on social responsibility. You had fun, and you clearly have time to waste—”

I held up a hand. “I, in fact, do not have time to waste. My days are already scheduled down to the minute. I keep skipping out on stuff to make time for you.”

Nadia’s brows drew together. “What are you supposed to be doing now?”

“Studying. I may not take hard classes, but I still have to do schoolwork like everyone else. If my GPA gets too low, I lose eligibility to play.”

“I know,” she said absently. Her eyes snapped to mine, and I saw the wheels turning. She’d revealed something she hadn’t meant to.

I cocked my head. “Why is that important?”

“I never said it was important.”

“You didn’t have to. I won’t pry if it bothers you, but you can tell me.”

Nadia watched me a moment, then slumped back against the cushion and gave in. “I used to be an athletic tutor.”