95. Nate Waller

NINETY-FIVE

Maddox lounges back, putting his arm around the top of Hannah's chair.

In the times we've talked since I first found out she was working for him, he's been nothing shy of infatuated. But since I know the history, I was skeptical.

Maddox was the one who spent fucking years talking about her— the girl who disappeared after his night in the library. So it's not my fault for not readily believing they were suddenly a happy couple.

But ten minutes of being at the same table and I can tell it's not fake.

His fingers skim across her shoulder.

Her hand reaches out of sight, probably settling on his thigh.

They're cute together.

And cute only in the sense that they look good sitting next to each other. Because the kiss Tony and I witnessed when we were walking up to the restaurant was anything but cute. They didn't even notice us crossing the street a dozen paces away.

I'm not gonna try to steal her, but I had to shake my leg as we entered the restaurant, jostling things back into place.

"So." Tony drums his fingers on the table after the server leaves with our orders. "Waller told me you two met in college."

Hannah blushes.

Maddox answers. "She spotted me across the quad and obviously became obsessed."

Hannah shakes her head, biting her lower lip. "Not exactly. But"— her gaze moves over to meet mine— "I think you were there. That first time I saw Maddox."

I sit up straighter. "Me?"

She nods. "I'm pretty sure it was you trying to jump on his back."

"Sounds about right," Maddox huffs, looking at me. "You're probably the reason my lower back always fucking hurts."

"Yeah, it was definitely me. And not you constantly bashing your big ass into other guys every week."

Tony snorts. "Fucking athletes."

Hannah turns to Tony. "I take it you didn't play with these guys."

"Nah, I met Waller at a dinner like this, actually. Friend of a friend sorta thing." He gestures at the table.

"And since Waller and Maddox are such fucking bosom buddies, they became a throuple," Max snarks from my other side.

I lunge for him, trying to shove my finger in his ear, but the fucker darts his head out of the way.

"That training must be working." I sit back. "You're getting quicker."

Max rolls his neck. "That's true, but you're also old and out of shape."

I scoff and push my chest out. "Who you callin' out of shape?"

At just that time, the server returns with our drinks, setting the beer down in front of me first.

Max lifts a brow, like me drinking a beer proves his point.

I lift my glass with one hand and flip him off with the other. "Enjoy your water, loser."

I'm pretty sure Max is already twenty-one, but he's gearing up for his senior season down in Arizona with hopes of getting drafted next spring, so good on him for abstaining.

Tony gets some type of dark liquor in a glass with one giant ice cube, and then the server presents a bottle of white wine to Maddox before pouring a glass each for him and Hannah, leaving the bottle on the table.

Another server shows up with a plate of homemade crackers and butter while Tony tells some story, but I'm too distracted watching Maddox and Hannah to listen.