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I returned to the dorm later, low-key hoping to see him before he went out to the frat parties tonight. To make fun of him for losing control.

But after parking my bike in the lot in front of Whitman, I saw McNeely and his girlfriend standing out front, arguing. Instead of walking in and having to make awkward greetings, I hung back and busied myself with the bike.

“I told you,” he said through gritted teeth. “You don’t need to come to this campaign thing.”

“And I told you, I’m going because I’m on the campaign staff. Remember? Besides, Janine wants us together in family photos. It reminds people your dad’s a man of faith because of my dad, I guess.”

I held myself back from rolling my eyes, but barely.

McNeely snorted and looked away. He looked annoyed as fuck, but he also looked rode hard and put away wet. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his hair looked the way it did after he’d been up too late working on an assignment.

Not that I paid attention.

“Arden…” He stopped and took a breath, running his hand over his face before glancing at her. “Why were you up in the VIP box with him today?”

She tilted her head. “What?”

“I saw you with my dad. On the Jumbotron.” The expression on his face was intense, like he was hoping for her to deny it, to come up with a reasonable explanation.

“So?” she demanded.

“So it surprised the shit out of me. We talked about this at the beginning of summer, remember? Before you started working for him. I told you⁠—”

“Oh, hold up. Tell me that’s not your excuse for not making the kick.”

McNeely’s eyes closed, and his jaw ticked. “It’s not. I just⁠—”

Arden’s eyes flashed. “Your father was a perfect gentleman today, Bett. He sent his assistant to find me and Cassie, and he offered us spots in the box. A completely normal thing for him to do for his son’s girlfriend. And you know what? It’s nice that someone gives a shit about my comfort and made sure I was enjoying myself while I was rooting for you. Meanwhile, you didn’t even reply to my texts wishing you luck earlier.”

“Arden—”

“No. You’re pissed at your dad? Fine. But I’ve listened to you complaining about him for months, and I’m over it. He’s a nice guy. Nobody told you to get involved in that bar fight, and as far as I’m concerned, your dad did what he had to do. Suck it up and take your punishment.”

McNeely’s jaw was so tight, I was surprised his teeth hadn’t cracked. “My father didn’t give a shit about the fight. He cared that it got in the media.”

“Because that’s his job! For heaven’s sake, Bett. Grow the fuck up. Stop blaming other people for your mistakes.”

McNeely shook his head once, then again. “Listen, can we not talk about this anymore? I think that’s our car pulling in. Let’s just get through this, then we can talk.”

“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If you have something to say to me, say it. If you think you missing an easy fucking field goal is my fault, just tell me.”

He paused before responding, and I suddenly realized he’d done that with me before. Like he was counting first. Or taking and holding a breath to keep from losing his shit.

“I’m not blaming you. I’m responsible for blocking everything out. And I failed. Believe me, I’m well aware of whose fault it is, and even if I wasn’t, my father will continue to remind me long after tonight. Let’s go. I’m done talking about this.”

I stood frozen, trying not to look like I was eavesdropping like a massive creep, but I probably failed.

Because when McNeely put his hand on Arden’s lower back to guide her into the dark SUV, he inadvertently turned and locked eyes with me.

The surprise was clear on his face, followed by several other emotions in quick succession. Annoyance. Fear. Defiance. And finally, exhaustion again.

Instead of acknowledging me, he simply entered the vehicle after his girlfriend and closed the door.

I made my way up to the room, replaying his conversation over and over in my head.

The only sign he’d been there was an iPad and an Apple Pencil sitting next to his open laptop. When he’d left for the game, I’d still been asleep. His electronics had still been packed away in his backpack. Now they were out like he’d come back from the game and started… doing homework or something?

How the fuck was that possible?