Page 116 of False Catch

"I know." I run a hand through my hair. "I thought I knew exactly who I was, you know? The funny one. The charming one. The one who never takes anything seriously. But with her..."

"It's different," Eli finishes.

"It's fucking terrifying." The admission comes out sharper than I mean it to. "Jackson's all intense passion. Bo's the protector. Cameron's got that quiet control thing. Gray commands everything. You and Tyler have your big brains. Zane makes her laugh. What the hell do I bring?"

Eli's quiet for a moment. "You see her."

"What?"

"Yesterday, when she walked in. You were the only one who noticed she was barely holding it together. Not because of Cameron – before that. You saw she was overwhelmed before she even sat down."

I hadn't realized anyone noticed that.

"You play the clown," Eli continues, "but you're probably the most observant person on this team. You just hide it better than Tyler or me."

Before I can respond, the others start heading out. Gray mutters something about the library. Tyler's got a study group. Jackson heads toward the gym. Eli mentions something about meeting with his advisor. Zane's arguing with Tyler about whether their split was actually better or if the wind helped.

Which leaves Reese and me.

She's still by the cox box, double-checking the equipment even though we both know it's already perfect.

"Need help?" I ask.

She jumps slightly, then tries to cover it. "I'm good. Just making sure everything's set for tomorrow."

"Bullshit." I move closer. "You're avoiding going back to campus."

"Maybe." She straightens, finally meeting my eyes. "It's a lot to process."

"The pack thing?"

"Everything." She gestures vaguely. "Saturday night. Sunday's meeting. The fact that we have maybe a week before Torres files her report. The way Quinton keeps..." She trails off.

"Keeps what?"

"Nothing. He's just been around a lot lately."

My instincts prickle. "Define 'a lot.'"

"It's probably nothing." But she's frowning. "He just seems to know things. Where I'll be. When we have team stuff. He texted during yesterday's meeting."

"That's not nothing, Reese."

She sighs, shouldering her bag. "I know. I know he’s interested in me and he seems to be trying to be respectful, but he’s just a lot. I can't deal with him and everything else right now."

"Want to not deal with it somewhere else?" The words come out before I can stop them. "I mean, we could grab food or something. Unless you need to—"

"Food sounds good," she interrupts, and something in my chest loosens.

Twenty minutes later, we're at a hole-in-the-wall taco place off campus. She's halfway through her second taco, and I'm pretending not to watch her lick salsa verde off her thumb.

"You're staring," she says without looking up.

"You've got salsa on your chin."

She wipes at it with a napkin. "Better?"

"You missed a spot." I reach over, thumb brushing the corner of her mouth. Her breath catches. "There."