“By who.”
“Everyone who didn’t think we’d make it this far.” I go back to my tablet. “Hendricks and Cole have been wrong about this team since we started. I keep a folder.”
She stares at me. “You keep a folder.”
“Of every time they were wrong.”
“That’s either extremely petty or extremely healthy.”
“Both. Definitely both.”
She snorts into her coffee.
We go back to our respective screens. Two minutes of quiet.
Then she says — without looking up — “Last night.”
I look up.
She’s still looking at her phone. Not reading it. Just holding it.
“What about it,” I say.
“Nothing.” She’s still not looking at me, the tips of her ears gone pink. “Just — what did you do to me.”
“I mean that in the best possible way,” she says. “Obviously. I just—” She stops. Starts again. “I’ve never — okay never mind.”
“Just what.”
“I said never mind.”
“Nova.”
“Jax.”
I wait.
She puts her phone face down on the counter. Looks at me sideways. “I woke up this morning and my first thought was not about coffee. That’s new. That’s never happened before. Coffee is always first.”
“What was first?” I wink.
She gives me a look.
“You taste sweet, what can I say.”
Her face goes crimson.
She opens her mouth. Closes it. Picks up her coffee and takes a very long sip and does not look at me.
My dick kicks.
I look at my tablet.
“Don’t be smug about it,” she mutters.
“I’m not smug.”
“You look smug.”