Stevie bites her lip and peeks up at me from under her lashes. “I don’t need you to combat a video with a video, Bishop.”

“Okay. I won’t do that, then.” I’m kind of relieved about that. I hate interviews in general, and I have zero practice making declaration videos. “I wish we could do over the morning after, though, or even when I kissed you. It would’ve been better if that had been just ours.”

“Me too. I mean, I wish I’d reacted differently the morning after too.” Stevie twists her fingers together. “I really haven’t been fair to you, Bishop.”

“Uh, okay?” I fully expected that I would have to get down on my knees and grovel, or at least apologize several times in succession for not dealing with the video or pushing her to talk. Most of the time I’m not invested enough to do the groveling part. This time it’s different, though. “Can you expand on that?”

“Come sit with me.” She links our fingers and leads me toward the couch. I settle into the corner, and she takes the cushion beside mine, keeping our fingers twined still. “I’ve spent the past decade hiding who my brother is, not taking into account how his fame affects anyone but me, and by doing that, I forced myself into a box, and all the people I care about along with me, including you.”

“I get it, though, why you wouldn’t want to put yourself at risk like that. I mean, I have to deal with the press and social media, but I can pay someone to manage that stuff for me, where you can’t.”

“I appreciate that you understand my position, but I don’t want you to make excuses for me.” She tips her head to the side. “I actually liked that you were one of my brother’s teammates. It meant I didn’t have to worry about you wanting to be around me for any other reason than I was helping you. And you hated each other, so for me that was another win, because you weren’t with me all the time because you wanted to get in with him. It had nothing to do with RJ at all, and I didn’t want to share that with anyone.”

“But then I came to that event with you,” I supply.

She nods. “I should’ve expected all the attention, but instead I buried my head in the sand like I always do. I fooled myself into believing it would be like every other night we were together, and that’s my fault. I shouldn’t have made you hide along with me. If I’d chilled out about it, then maybe the first thing on social media with the two of us wouldn’t have been a stupid viral video that everyone freaked out over, including me.”

“If I’d made a move before that night, there might not be a viral video.” I feel like I need to take some of the blame for this.

“You were trying to follow your coach’s orders.” Stevie smiles softly and sighs. “So I’m sorry for the way I reacted, for not being able to handle it, and for telling you I needed time to think and then not responding to your message right away, but I had a lot of emotional baggage to unpack.”

“And now that you’ve unpacked it, how do you feel about everything?”

“Like I wish I would’ve handled things differently in the first place.”

“Sort of like how I wish I hadn’t been such an asshole when you first moved in.” I give her a half smile.

“The boner-killer insult was pretty unforgettable.”

“I was in a mood.” I lift our clasped hands and press my lips to her knuckle.

“So rare for you.”

“The boner-killer comment was bullshit anyway, and you know it.” I lean in closer, fingering a lock of pale-lavender hair. “This past week without you was awful. I hated it. I hated not talking to you, not having you up my ass about workouts, not seeing your face, even if it was on a stupid tiny screen.”

“I hated all of those things too.”

“I can deal with away games as long as I have you when I get back.”

“To stretch you out?”

I roll my eyes, which I realize is usually her reaction, not mine. “Can you ever not be pithy?”

She cringes. “It might be my defense mechanism.”

“Turn it off for a second, ’kay?”

“Sorry.” She presses her lips together.

“I want to be the olive to your pineapple.” I smooth my thumb along the edge of her jaw, and she tips her head back: an unconscious reaction, I’m sure, but it says everything words can’t. For so many reasons we probably shouldn’t fit together, but we do.

She laughs. “I told you it would grow on you.”

“I’ll never openly admit I like it, though.” I cup her face in my palms and dip down and brush my lips over hers. “My whole world is better with you in it, Stevie.”

“Mine too.”

“I want to take you on dates, in public places. I just want to be with you.”

She exhales a shuddery breath and whispers, “I want the same.”

“I don’t want to have to hide how I feel about you anymore.”

“Me either.”

I grab her by the waist and shift her so she’s straddling my lap. There are a million way more romantic ways I could do this, and I consider running across the hall to get the flowers and chocolate, but we’re here, and mostly naked, and I’m thinking this is a pretty convenient setup, so the flowers can wait.