Page 25 of Prince Material

“Please. You’ve had that dreamy look all night. So who is he?”

“There’s nohe.” I focused on the field, where our team was finding new and creative ways to fumble. “I’m trying to figure out how many ways one can drop the ball in a game, literally and figuratively.”

“Uh-huh.” She didn’t sound convinced. “That’s why you keep checking your phone every five minutes?”

Had I been doing that? Shit. I forced my hands to stay still in my lap. “I’m checking the time.”

“Right. Because watching paint dry—I mean, Eagles football—is so riveting, you need constant time updates.”

I couldn’t help grinning. “You’re kind of terrifying, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.” She bumped my shoulder. “Come on, who’s the guy? Promise I won’t tell.”

I sighed, debating how much to say. “It’s complicated.”

“Isn’t it always?” Her voice softened. “Let me guess. He’s straight?”

“No, actually. But he’s…” I searched for words that wouldn’t give too much away. “He’s very focused on his studies. Not interested in dating or anything else that might distract him.”

“Ah.” She nodded sagely. “One of those. We get a lot of them here.”

“He’s not just one of anything,” I said before I could stop myself. “He’s…”Brilliant. Fascinating. Frustrating. Gorgeous when he gets excited about something he loves.None of which I could say out loud. “Complicated,” I finished lamely.

She grinned. “Sounds… complicated.” When I rolled my eyes at her, she chuckled. “I’ll get off your ass now, I promise.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, though I couldn’t help smiling. Ashley reminded me a bit of my cousin Juliana—too perceptive for my own good.

The marching band took the field for halftime, their formations about as coordinated as our team’s offense had been. But there was something charming about their enthusiasm, even as they nearly collided during what I assumed was supposed to be an arrow formation.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I tried not to look too eageras I pulled it out, but my heart did a stupid little skip when I saw Orson’s name.

Orson

Did they score yet?

Me

Define “they”

Because if you mean the other team, then yes. Multiple times.

If you mean us… well…

Orson

That bad?

Me

Let’s just say I’ve seen more coordination in a kindergarten football game. Though the crowd’s still having fun. You could still come join us…

I held my breath, waiting for his response, aware of Ashley’s knowing look beside me.

Orson

Can’t. Still working. But thanks for the updates.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard. I wanted to push, to tell him the problem set would still be there tomorrow, that he deserved a break. But I remembered how he’d tensed when I’d suggested the same thing earlier.