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“Hey. Last night was fun. I’m looking forward to the rematch.”

The way he said it had me wondering—was he referring to our hallway makeout session, or the final round of trivia? Either way, he’d emerged victorious, and I’d been left feeling like our trivia team name was too on the nose. Like I was a reject.

My crush on Ty needed to die. Sure, he was hot, in a broody, antihero way. I knew he was calm under pressure and intelligent. Hardworking. But he also blew more hot and cold than Washington in spring, and I was tired of it.

Chasing someone until he caught me didn’t appeal. I had to get us back on friendly footing. Fast.

“Our team loves trivia night. We’ll be there next week. You and the rest of the Knit Wits are worthy opponents.”

Moving things from the individual to the group seemed the easiest way to emphasize there was nothing personal between us. Not anymore.

He ran a hand through his dark hair. Had I rattled him, keeping our conversation as impersonal as possible and off the subject of our kiss?Good.

“Well, I wanted to congratulate you again and offer a consolation prize.”

He seemed to realize how it sounded as soon as he said it. Like maybe kissing me had been the consolation prize, though the timing didn’t fit. Or did he think offering me another kiss would cheer me up? His cheeks flushed, and I watched, entranced, as he pulled the buttery yellow muffler he’d been knitting free from his bag.

“This is for you.”

He proffered the yellow scarf in one big paw of a hand, the golden threads spilling from between his fingers like treasure.

“May I?” he asked, stepping forward to wind it around my neck.

“For me?”

His sheepish grin sent a zing between my thighs. He’d been sitting in the jury box, working on this project, all week. Had he been thinking about me as much as I’d been thinking about him?

“Yeah. It’s still cold. There’s a matching hat too. I made them for you. I thought you might help keep you warm.”

The thoughtfulness of the gesture hit me hard. The tiny, caring gift was yet another example of what made Ty special.

“Ty, you didn’t need to make these.”

He shrugged, ignoring my gaze as he wound the soft cotton around my neck before tugging the matching hat over my curls. I shivered as his fingertips grazed my ears and neck in a brief caress.

“I wanted to.”

I cracked a smile, unable to resist teasing him.

“I’ve noticed you have a problem.”

He quirked a brow. “Oh, yeah? Is it a certain mouthy and competitive woman?”

I snorted softly. “Other than that particular issue, I’ve observed that you have busy, busy hands.”

The suppressed mischief in his expression held me entranced. Bantering with him made everything brighter. But I’d resolved not to encourage him further. That thought had me rushing to forestall more flirting. Choosing not to chase him anymore was turning out to be a hard promise to keep.

“I’m talking about …” I stalled, searching for a more mundane direction than my dirty mind wanted to allow. “Your knitting, of course. I guess it’s all in the name—the Knit Wits, right?”

His lip twitch let me know he was still tempted to tease.

“Yes. Our team sells a lot of what we make. If you want to see more of our wares, come to the farmer’s market Saturday.”

His invitation took me by surprise. Was it a date, or an invitation to support his habit?

“I can show you around the other booths, introduce you to some of my favorite vendors. We can hit up one of the food trucks for lunch.”

It sounded more and more like a date with every word. I bit my lip, debating. Did this count as him chasing me? My heart raced at the possibility, my earlier resolution dissolving. He’d approached me before trivia. Helped with my car. Knit me a beautiful scarf. Had I misread his signals?