Page 132 of Tessa and Nash

“Tessa,” she says quietly, “did something happen?”

I stare down at the table.

My fingers curl around the edge like it might anchor me.

“Yes,” I admit. “Things happened.”

Maeve blinks slowly.

“Plural,” she says faintly.

I shoot her a warning look.

Maeve holds up both hands in surrender, but her eyes are lit with shock and concern and a kind of careful curiosity.

“Okay,” she says. “Okay. I’m not judging.”

I swallow.

“It wasn’t planned,” I say.

Maeve snorts. “Nothing in your life is planned except your file labels.”

I exhale sharply, half laugh, half sigh.

“Is it… bad?”

I look up at her. My chest tightens. “No. That’s the problem.”

Maeve’s expression shifts again, the humor fading. “Ah, it’s good.”

I stare at my hands. “It’s complicated.”

Maeve reaches across the table again, tapping my knuckles lightly. “Do you like him?”

“I… I don’t know how I feel.”

“That’s a yes.” She shrugs. “I’ve known you since we were twelve. I know what your face does when you’re lying.”

My jaw tightens.

“Tessa,” she says, “I’ve been here through this whole rivalry with you. The entire time. I’ve listened to you call him reckless and privileged and infuriating for years.”

“I wasn’t wrong,” I mutter.

Maeve lifts a brow. “And now?”

“Now… I don’t think I was fully right either.”

“And does he like you?”

Instantly, I shake my head, but internally, my stomach cramps. “No, this is just a part of the plan. A plan that I guess I need to make a move on, right?”

Maeve gives me a look, but that’s something I cannot deal with right now.

One problem at a time.

“Is this weird?” I ask Nash as he chews his food. “Being in Spurs Diner? On a date?”