I glance over and see Nathan still hasn’t moved, his drink gripped tight in his hands.
Only now he’s not watching Ryan anymore.
He’s watching Logan.
Jaw tight, eyes narrowed—the exact same look he had before. Except now it’s aimed somewhere completely different.
I nudge him. “What? You think Logan’s gonna murder someone too?”
Nathan finally blinks, like he forgot I was there. “What? No. I just…”
He trails off, lifts his bottle, and takes a long sip.
Weird.
But I’m not about to pry, not with half a keg left and a living room full of distractions waiting for me.
I lean back against the counter, letting the noise of the party wash over me—sweaty bodies pressed close, shitty lighting flickering, music pounding. This is what weekends are made for. No assignments. No coach breathing down my neck. No pressure. Just noise, beer, and the sweet relief of forgetting for a few hours that I’ve tanked half my semester.
The music shifts, a faster hip-hop beat thumping through the walls. More people flood in from the backyard, and the heat in the house spikes another ten degrees. I catch sight of some guy doing a keg stand in the hallway, and someone next to me starts chanting.
It’s sweaty. It’s dumb.
And I fucking love it.
I should dive in, join the chant, refill my drink, lose myself. But instead, my eyes scan the crowd, and my stomach drops.
I’m doing it again.
Looking for her.
I don’t even know if she’s coming. She said she would, but maybe she changed her mind.
“What are you looking at?” Nathan’s voice pulls me back.
I blink, tearing my gaze from the door, seeing his brows knitted together. “Nothing. Just… invited Maisie.”
He raises a brow. “Maisie?”
Right. Forgot the guys don’t really know her. Which is kind of nice. I like having her all to myself.
“My tutor,” I add.
He arches a judgmental brow at me. What is it with everyone having very expressive eyebrows lately? “You think it’s smart getting involved with your tutor?”
I shoot him a look. “It’s not like that, okay? I can keep my dick in my pants. She’s just always working and stressed, and I thought she needed a night to chill.” I shrug. “Let loose.”
Nathan takes a slow sip of his drink, shaking his head like he’s already written me off. “Hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I do,” I say, maybe a little too fast. But Nathan’s wrong. Yeah, it’s fun to flirt with her, but I’m not about to fuck up this tutoring thing. She’s my only shot at getting back on the team.
Besides, she’s into someone else. Apparently, I’m not her type—which is bullshit, because I’m a catch. But whatever.
She might not come. Probably won’t. But damn, I hope she does.
I just want to see her. Out of the library, out of her hoodie, smiling—preferably at me.
I sneak another glance toward the door for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, and I forget how to breathe.
