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"To not getting fined tomorrow!" James echoes.

"To the fact that Mandy keeps showing up and hasn’t run away yet," I add, lifting my glass toward her.

She clinks it with mine. "I like a challenge...and my new study digs."

"Careful," I murmur. "I do too and you're welcome. It's safer than walking home alone at night."

Her eyes flick up. Just for a second. But it lands like a hit to the chest.

Kira chimes in. "Safer? Maybe in some respects, but not others."

Mandy elbows her and Kira chuckles.

Twenty minutes later, the table’s a mix of laughter and overlapping conversations. Kira is talking Priya into crashing the guys’ next charity skate. Haley and Grace are plotting a girls’ brunch. I catch Mandy watching me over her drink, her lips curved like she’s in on a secret I haven’t been told.

"Come here," I say quietly, standing.

She blinks. "Where?"

"Just…" I gesture toward another room in the back. "Trust me."

She grabs her drink and follows without hesitation, weaving through the crowd. We end up in a room with a pool table and high top tables. This room is calmer. No loud laughs or beer sloshing across tables like the front. Just a pool table, a few high tops, and enough space to breathe. It’s dim, quiet in that low-key way that says you can take your time here. Run a game. Nurse a drink. Watch without being watched.

"What’s up?" she asks.

"I needed five minutes without James narrating our body language."

"He’s observant."

"He’s a menace."

I step closer. Not too close. But close enough that I can smell her perfume. Her eyes catch mine. She doesn’t look away.

"Hey," I say, scratching the back of my neck. "Can I show you something?"

She raises a brow. "Show me what?"

"You’ll see. It’s stupid. But also not." I take a folded piece of paper out of my wallet.

She gives me a look. "If this ends in a magic trick, I’m walking."

I laugh. "Not quite. I, uh, I remembered something earlier when you were talking about liking a challenge."

She tilts her head. "Yeah?"

"When I got traded here, I made this list. Stupid goals. Like, get to know the local pizza guy, don’t punch any teammates in the first week, stuff like that."

"Reasonable."

"One of them was: Don’t get distracted." I point that out on the list and then fold the paper up again and put it away.

She arches a brow. "And how’s that going?"

I smirk. "Terribly. Because now every time I see you, I forget what the hell I was doing five minutes earlier."

She pauses. Her breath fogs between us. "That’s... a line."

"It’s also the truth."