Chapter One Ava #3
Tyler pointed between them like a man discovering a new sport. “Oh, this is happening.”
“No,” Ava and Nate said at the same time.
They looked at each other.
Bad.
Very bad.
Simultaneous denial was practically foreplay for idiots.
Ava stepped back from the window. “I am not part of your weird hockey mating ritual.”
Nate’s eyebrows shot up. “Mating ritual?”
“I said what I said.”
“Pretty sure I’m the one being objectified here.”
“You’ll survive. You have discipline.”
His eyes narrowed again, but his mouth gave him away.
He liked that.
He liked her giving him a hard time.
Ava knew men like that. The ones who thought resistance was flirting and flirting was a challenge and challenge was foreplay.
Except Nate did not look entitled.
He looked entertained.
And maybe a little careful.
As if some part of him understood exactly where the line was and had no intention of crossing it unless she moved first.
That made him more dangerous.
Tyler pulled out his phone. “I’m putting it in the group chat.”
Nate lunged for him. “Do not put this in the group chat.”
Tyler dodged behind another player. “Too late!”
Ava inhaled sharply. “Banned phrase!”
Nate pointed at her. “You started this.”
“I made one accurate observation.”
“You escalated a hostile environment.”
“You brought the hostile environment with you.”
“It’s called a team.”
“That explains so much.”
His smile came back.
This time, Ava could not stop her own.
It was small.
Barely there.
But Nate saw it.
His expression softened for half a second, and that was the exact moment Ava knew she needed to end this.
Immediately.
She shut the service window.
Not all the way. Just enough to make a point.
The deck booed.
Ava turned around and leaned back against the counter.
Ellie stared at her with both hands pressed to her mouth.
Ava pointed at her. “No.”
Ellie dropped her hands. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You are glowing.”
“I just witnessed the origin story of something.”
“You witnessed harassment with sports equipment.”
“I witnessed chemistry with condiments nearby.”
“There is no chemistry.”
“The slushie machine steamed.”
“It always steams.”
“It has never steamed like that.”
Ava grabbed a stack of cups and shoved them into the dispenser with unnecessary force. “I am here to work.”
“Sure.”
“I need money.”
“Absolutely.”
“I do not have time for hockey boy nonsense.”
“Obviously.”
“I am not becoming the summer entertainment.”
Ellie looked past her toward the service window.
Ava refused to turn around.
“Then you may want to avoid the group chat,” Ellie said.
Ava’s stomach dropped. “What?”
Ellie held up her phone.
Ava did not know how Ellie had access to a hockey group chat and did not want to ask. Some people collected stamps. Ellie apparently collected social liabilities.
On the screen was a message thread titled:
RIDGEVIEW SUMMER CHALLENGE: NO MULCH 2026
A new poll had appeared.
THE SUMMER BET: Can Nate Brennan survive the summer without falling in love?
Option 1: Yes, he has discipline. Option 2: No, he has cheekbones and no survival instincts. Option 3: Snack Shack Girl ends him by July.
Ava stared at the screen.
Her name was not on it.
That was good.
Then a new message appeared.
From Tyler:
Snack Shack Girl needs a name for official odds.
Ava’s blood pressure climbed.
Another message popped up.
From Nate Brennan:
Her name is Ava. And leave her out of it.
Ellie made a soft, delighted sound.
Ava took the phone from her hand.
Outside, beyond the glass, Nate stood on the deck with his own phone in his hand.
He looked up.
Their eyes met through the service window.
His face was unreadable now.
Not cocky.
Not smiling.
Something steadier.
Protective, maybe.
Which was ridiculous.
He did not know her.
He did not get to be protective.
Ava looked down at the phone again.
Another message appeared.
From Tyler:
Too late. Ava is officially the line judge.
Ava’s jaw tightened.
Nate typed fast.
Before his message appeared, Tyler sent one more.
Current odds: Brennan falls first.
The deck outside erupted again.
Ava slowly lifted her eyes to Nate.
He was already looking at her.
This time, he did not smile.
Ava should have been annoyed.
She was annoyed.
Furious, even.
But beneath that, under the irritation and the heat and the sudden knowledge that her quiet summer had just been drop-kicked into a public group chat, something else sparked.
Challenge.
Nate Brennan wanted to survive the summer without catching feelings.
Fine.
Ava slid the service window open.
The deck quieted with terrifying speed.
She leaned out just enough for Nate to hear her.
“Brennan.”
His eyebrows lifted.
Ava smiled sweetly.
Too sweetly.
The kind of smile that made men with survival instincts back away.
Nate did not back away.
Of course he didn’t.
Ava held his gaze and said, “I hope you’re better at hockey than you are at bets.”
The deck exploded.
Nate stared at her for one suspended second.
Then his mouth curved into the slowest, most dangerous smile Ava had ever seen.
And that was when she realized the summer was not in trouble.
She was.