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Vivienne scowls, but it’s missing her usual heat. “You invited me for coffee.”

“Yeah. And you turned me down.” I try hard to keep the bitterness out of my voice, but I don’t think I’m successful.

She looks away.

“Did… something change?”

She takes a deep breath. “So it turns out you aren’t a total scumbag.”

My stomach drops with disappointment. Though I try to keep my expression neutral, I don’t think I’m successful. “Is that what you thought of me?”

“I used to,” she says steadily.

When I don’t react, she sighs.

“Not really,” she admits. “I was hurt and angry. I was taking it out on you, and you didn’t do anything to deserve it.”

I swallow. “Why were you hurt?”

Her eyes flash, and my stomach tenses in anticipation.

fifteen

. . .

Viv

This is hard to say.

“You left,” I say quietly. “The morning after…”

He pauses. “I messaged you.”

My eyebrows go up. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yeah. I had to leave—I had to get to practice—but I sent you a DM on Instagram. I knew it was a long shot,” he adds. “But I was hoping you’d see it.”

“My socials are all locked down, especially that summer.” Anticipation flutters in my stomach. “You messaged me?”

“Yeah. I tried to find you at the Closing Ceremony, but there were too many people. And then we came back home and you were on the talk show circuit, and I had the tour, and…” He trails off. “I had fun. I wanted to do it again.”

I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “Have you lived in Boston all this time?” This is my fifth season with the Revolution; I’ve been here ever since.

He nods.

“Why haven’t you reached out again?”

Tony laughs. “Hello, stalker, much? It was a one-night stand three years ago. I didn’t want you to think I was some creep. You didn’t answer, I left it at that. I figured you weren’t interested.”

Disappointment flows through me. “I wish I’d known who you were.”

He blinks. “You didn’t remember me?”

Is that judgment in his voice?

“Not by name,” I admit. “I…”

His foot nudges mine under the table. He presses his shoe against mine.