Page 70 of Something to Prove

“Word on the street is that you and the hockey star are boyfriend official,” Robin reported, interrupting my happy daydream from his computer in my office.

I shot a curious sideways glance at him before returning to my monitor. “Where’d you hear that?”

“A girl from my mechanical engineering class who heard it from someone who claims to have witnessed a smooch.” Robin puckered up for good measure, pushing his glasses into place when they slipped down his nose. “No photos yet, but…perhaps there’s a smidge of truth?”

And now he was waggling his brows.

“We’re not boyfriends.”

Robin wasn’t deterred. “Lovers, then? I believe the relationship correlation is inferred.”

“Oh, please.”

“You’re blushing.” He squinted as he cocked his head. “Definitely a blush. Curious. You can trust me, you know. Or…you can talk to me if you’d like.”

“I…I know. Thank you.”

“Well?”

“We’re…enjoying each other’s company,” I hedged.

“Ahh! Gosh, it feels good to be right.”

Robin’s smug expression was mildly annoying, but I chuckled, surprised at how nice it felt that someone in Smithton knew. It made it feel real.

A dangerous sentiment indeed.

“Latte with oat milk comin’ in hot. I brought croissants too,” Ty pronounced as someone called his name from the line at Coffee Cave. He inclined his chin in acknowledgment and set the drinks and a dish with two croissants in front of me.

I removed my bag from the chair I’d saved for him and set my phone on the table I’d secured in the corner. “Is it my imagination, or are people staring at us?”

Ty tore off a piece of croissant and glanced around the café. “Yeah, I think you’re right. Brady and Gus told me they heard a rumor that?—”

“Yo, it’s the lovebirds!” Arlo hooted as he entered the shop. “That’s something new in Smithton.”

His football buddies snickered like delinquents, including Carson, who seemed a little less amused than his friends.

Ty frowned as the entourage made their way to the counter. “Carson.”

“Carson outed us? Why?” I whispered-hissed. “What proof does he have? What did?—”

“Hey, relax. You don’t need proof to start a rumor, Walker. As for why? Who knows? I turned him down and he didn’t like it. Or maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe he made an offhand remark to one of his buddies who told a girlfriend or a parent or whatever the fuck. Doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does. It’s an invasion of privacy,” I groused, sipping my drink and immediately wincing. “Shoot, that’s hot.”

Ty pushed a napkin toward me. “You’ve got latte on your chin. Can I wipe it off?”

“No, you may not.” I scanned the shop briefly. “Why aren’t you upset?”

“Why would I be?” he countered. “They can think whatever they want.”

“Just like that? Are you nuts? What if it gets out…beyond Smithton? What if the Jackals?—”

“Walker, no oneknowsanything. No proof, remember? Trust me. It’s gonna be fine,” he assured me, leaning in as his cell buzzed. “It’s my agent. I have to take this, and I’ve got class in fifteen minutes.”

“Go. I’ll talk to you later.”

Ty answered the call, slipping on his earbuds while he gathered his belongings.