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“I guess,” she said, her voice small. She sniffled, but she wasn’t crying anymore.

Noah swooped in before she could spiral again. “Your sundae’s all melted. Do you want to order another one?” he asked. “I know you love choosing the toppings.”

Evie let out another hiccup and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I can get anything?”

“Anything,” he confirmed.

She looked at the sad puddle in her bowl, then at the DIY sundae station. She didn’t need more convincing than that.

Evie ran off, and the ache in my chest eased. She’d be okay. Kids her age were more resilient than people gave them credit for.

“Was that story true?” Noah asked once she was out of earshot. He sat across from me in the booth, his frame almost comically large for the cramped space. Furrows dug deep grooves in his forehead, but his gaze held steady and curious on mine.

“Unfortunately. I don’t talk about it much because it was mortifying, but…” I shrugged. “It built character, or whatever it is that people say.”

“Girlfriend aside, sounds like Danny missed out on a good thing.”

My heart stuttered at his unexpected comment. Did he say that out of pity, or something else? It was impossible to tell. “Careful, Wilson. That almost sounds like an unnecessary compliment.”

The corner of his mouth flicked up at my callback to our contract. “Not a compliment. Merely an observation.”

Tiny butterflies danced in my stomach. I pressed my lips together, furious at myself for reacting this way to an objectively innocent statement. Had I learned nothing from the Danny Lee incident?

“Speaking of observations, it’s almost the end of the season,” I said, pivoting. “That means our contract ends soon.”

Blackcastle had three more matches left, and Evie’s last day of school was a week after their final match. After that, Noah would fly to South Africa while Evie spent the summer with Noah’s parents.

His eyes flickered at the reminder of our contract. “Correct.”

“I found a great flat in the city. I’d have three roommates, but it’s affordable and close to the Tube. The lease doesn’t start until July though. I know you won’t be in town, but would it be okay if I stayed at your house until then? I’d pay rent, of course,” I added quickly. “And I’m happy to help out with Evie if she ends up staying in London.”

Noah stared at me, his expression shuttered.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I swear I won’t destroy the house while you’re gone.” I tried to inject some levity into the increasingly strained silence. “When you get back, it’ll be like I was never there. I promise.”

I hated asking for favors, but it didn’t make sense for me to move all my stuff out, find a temporary place to stay for a month, then move again.

Noah tapped his fingers against the table. Once, twice. “I didn’t realize you’d started your flat search.”

“I’ve been looking since I moved in,” I pointed out, a bit taken aback by his terse reply. “That was the deal.”

I’d browsed some listings in April, but to be honest, I hadn’t put much effort into finding a new place to live until the last two weeks. I’d been so busy, and I foolishly dreaded moving out of the Wilsons’ house. I hadn’t lived there for long, but it felt like home.

However, with the end of the season creeping up, I’d forced myself to start flat hunting. The housing gods had smiled on me for once—I’d found the perfect place within forty-eight hours of starting my search. All female roommates, a good location, and cute decor. It was everything I’d hoped for.

So why didn’t I feel more excited?

“Right.” A muscle worked in Noah’s jaw. His eyes slid to the sundae station, where Evie was still examining her options. Her tears were completely gone now, and she appeared to be debating the merits of chocolate chips versus sprinkles.

“You can say no,” I said awkwardly. “I won’t be upset. I understand it might be weird to have me in your house when you’re not there. I figured⁠—”

“It’s fine. You can stay for however long you need.”

“Oh. Okay. Um, thanks.”

The silence persisted.

He rubbed a hand over his jaw; I fidgeted with the corner of my napkin. Walls of tension pressed in from all sides.