For the next twenty minutes, Jamie is civil. That’s the weirdestpart. Not nice, exactly. Nash doesn’t do nice. Nice would probably make him break out in hives. But he’s civil. He asks Kowalski about his shot adjustment from practice. He tells Cooper his defensive reads were better yesterday. He even looks at me once and says, “Your follow-through was cleaner this morning.”
I blink at him. The whole table keeps talking like he didn’t just say something insane. “Was that a compliment?”
He immediately looks irritated with himself for even saying anything to me. “It was an observation.”
“That is the closest thing to praise you’ve ever given me.”
“It wasn’t praise, not even close, just a fact.”
“Oh my god.” I put a hand over my chest. “I’m going to remember this for the rest of my life.”
“You need significantly bigger life events.”
“I disagree. This feels huge for us, Captain.”
Cooper laughs. Bennett laughs. Even Kowalski’s mouth twitches. Jamie doesn’t laugh, but his eyes stay on me. And there’s that color again. That faint, betraying flush that starts at his collar and creeps up slowly, like his body knows what his face refuses to admit.
I should leave it alone.
I don’t. Obviously.
Because I like seeing this side of Jamie. I like to push him past the point where he usually sits comfortably. He acts like he hates me, but he watches me too closely for that to be true.
“Careful, Captain,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “Keep being nice to me and people might talk.” The table noise dips around us, not fully, but enough. A couple guys hear it. Cooper definitely hears it because Cooper is nosy and has the subtlety of a car alarm.
Jamie’s face goes blank and for half a second, I think I pushedtoo far. Then his foot knocks into mine under the table.
Not hard.
Not accidental either.
Not like he hated it.
My entire body goes still.
Jamie looks away, calm as always, and reaches for his water.
I gape at him.
What the fuck.
No, seriously. What the fuck.
I wait for him to look back. He doesn’t. He starts talking to Kowalski again like he didn’t just kick me under the table like we’re in middle school or flirting or whatever the hell this is supposed to be.
Maybe it was an accident.
No.
No, absolutely not.
Jamie Nash is too controlled for accidental contact. The man knows exactly where his feet are at all times.
I look down at my plate, fighting a smile.
This is stupid.
Dangerous.
