Chapter Twenty Nate #2
Nate turned away slightly, lowering his voice. “Because it would have made the kiss look like challenge content. Ava did not sign up to be turned into a highlight reel because Hale Development wanted crowd engagement.”
Silence.
Then Doyle said, “Ava is the staff partner?”
“Yes.”
“And your girlfriend?”
Nate’s pulse hit hard.
There it was.
The direct question.
He could say no.
It would be true.
Technically.
He could say yes.
It would be a lie.
Technically.
Every answer felt like it belonged to the wrong version of the story.
“It’s complicated,” Nate said.
Doyle made a low sound. “That’s usually a no with paperwork.”
“It’s not a no.”
The words came out before Nate could stop them.
Griffin’s eyes lifted.
Soren went very still.
Nate looked down at the grass.
Well.
There it was.
Not a no.
Coach was quiet for a beat longer.
“Brennan. You know captaincy is still on the table.”
Nate’s jaw tightened.
“Yes, sir.”
“Leadership is not about avoiding complicated things. It’s about not letting complicated things make you careless.”
Nate exhaled slowly.
That was not what he expected.
Doyle continued, “If a sponsor created an uncomfortable situation for staff, that is on the program to handle. I will speak with Paulson. You do not need to fight every battle yourself.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Nate almost laughed.
Apparently that question had become the theme of his entire summer.
“I’m learning.”
“Good. Learn fast. Also, if Tyler posts anything stupid, send it to Griffin before it reaches me.”
Nate looked toward Tyler, who was attempting to carry six folding chairs and losing to geometry.
“Yes, sir.”
“And Brennan?”
“Yes?”
“Be honest with the girl before you get honest in public. Public honesty makes a mess when private honesty is late.”
The line went dead.
Nate lowered the phone.
For a second, he did not move.
Coach Doyle had a horrible habit of being right in ways that felt like conditioning drills.
Be honest with the girl before you get honest in public.
Ava was looking at him.
Not with confusion now.
With distance.
That got him moving.
He crossed the lawn toward her.
Before he reached the drink station, Trevor stepped into his path.
Nate stopped.
The timing was too neat to be accidental.
Trevor smiled. “Big night.”
Nate glanced toward Ava.
She had gone still.
“Move,” Nate said.
Trevor’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s not very friendly.”
“We are not friends.”
“No? We seem to have a mutual interest.”
Nate’s voice dropped. “Do not call her that.”
Trevor’s smile thinned. “Ava has always been good at making men feel chosen when she needs something.”
Nate’s hands flexed once.
No jaw crimes had expanded into no fist crimes by necessity.
“You texted me last night,” Nate said.
Trevor’s eyes sharpened.
“Unknown number,” Nate added. “Very subtle.”
Trevor shrugged lightly. “I thought you deserved a warning.”
“No. You thought I would be insecure enough to punish her for your version of her.”
For the first time, Trevor’s face lost its polish completely.
Only for a second.
But Nate saw it.
Good.
“Careful,” Trevor said. “You don’t know what happened.”
“I know you keep trying to make her smaller when she stops answering you the way you want.”
Trevor stepped closer. “You think you’re different?”
Nate did not move.
“I think I’m responsible for what I do next,” Nate said.
Trevor laughed softly. “That’s sweet.”
“It’s also more than you managed.”
The words landed.
Trevor’s eyes cooled.
“Enjoy playing hero,” he said. “Guys like you usually do.”
Nate stepped around him.
Trevor’s voice followed. “Ask her why she picked you.”
Nate stopped.
There it was.
The hook.
The bait.
The question designed to stick.
Why you?
Because she needed cover.
Because Trevor was watching.
Because Nate was useful.
Because this started fake.
Nate looked back at him. “I don’t need to ask her like an accusation.”
Trevor’s mouth curved. “Then ask yourself.”
Nate walked away.
It took everything he had not to look rattled.
He was rattled.
Not because he believed Trevor.
Because he knew how to aim poison too.
Trevor had not chosen the question randomly. Why you was already inside Nate, tucked under the confidence, under the charm, under the captaincy campaign and the easy smile.
Why would Ava choose him when the first thing she had needed from him was performance?
Why would she trust him when this had started with a bet he had failed to stop early enough?
Why would she want the man people kept calling fun when something finally mattered?
Ava stood beside the drink table, arms folded.
Ellie was gone.
Probably on purpose.
Ava watched him approach with a face he could not read.
That scared him more than Trevor.
“What did Paulson want?” she asked.
No greeting.
No joke.
Nate stopped in front of her. “To post a neutral recap.”
Her expression tightened. “Neutral.”
“I said no clip. No station specifics. No framing the kiss.”
She looked at him, then toward Paulson, then back. “What framing?”
Nate chose his words carefully.
Too carefully.
He heard it as he spoke and hated himself for it.
“Hale Development wanted language that kept it about the relay. All in good fun. Bonus points. That kind of thing.”
Ava’s face went still.
No.
Nate stepped closer. “I said no.”
“Because of me?”
“Because of us.”
Her eyes changed.
He had said the word before he could think better of it.
Us.
Ava stared at him like the word had taken up too much space.
Nate softened his voice. “Ava, I need to say something before the rest of this gets louder.”
She looked past him, toward Trevor.
“Did he say something to you?”
Nate hesitated for one fraction of a second.
Ava saw it.
Her jaw tightened. “He did.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“The usual. That you were using me. That I should ask why you picked me.”
Her face drained.
Nate hated himself for delivering the words badly.
“I didn’t believe him,” he said quickly.
“But you heard him.”
“Yes.”
“And now you’re here needing to say something.”
“Because I don’t want him between us.”
Ava laughed once.
Small.
Wounded.
“There is no us, remember?”
The words hit harder than he expected.
Nate swallowed.
“That’s what I need to talk about.”
Her eyes flashed. “Is it?”
“Yes.”
“Or do you need to clarify before your coach sees more clips?”
Nate froze.
Ava’s face changed the second she said it.
Regret.
Fear.
Pride covering both.
He understood then.
She had seen the call.
Not heard it.
Seen enough.
Coach. Paulson. Trevor. Sponsor. Clip. Recap.
Every public pressure point gathering around a kiss she had barely found the courage to claim.
“Ava,” he said.
“No. It’s fair. I get it.” She stepped back. “You have captaincy. Team image. Sponsors. A fall that matters. I was the one who turned you into a fake boyfriend because I panicked.”
“Stop.”
She flinched.
Nate cursed himself silently and softened immediately.
“Please stop,” he said. “That came out wrong.”
“Did it?”
“Yes.”
“Because it sounded like you didn’t want to hear the accurate version.”
“I don’t want to hear Trevor’s version coming out of your mouth.”
That stopped her.
Her eyes shone.
Anger, maybe.
Something worse.
“You don’t get to decide what is Trevor’s version and what is mine.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
There it was again.
A question with teeth.
This time, Nate did not have the right answer fast enough.
Ava nodded like the silence confirmed something.
“That’s what I thought.”
She turned toward the snack shack.
Nate reached for words, not her.
Never her.
“The kiss wasn’t just for points.”
Ava stopped.
Her back was to him.
The lawn noise blurred around them.
He kept going.
“It started fake. The dinner, the boyfriend thing, maybe even the first handholding. I know that. I’m not pretending it didn’t. But the kiss...”
His voice caught.
Ava turned halfway.
Nate looked at her, every easy answer gone.
“The kiss was the first honest thing I have done all summer,” he said.
Ava’s face cracked.
Just enough.
Hope flashed there, terrified and bright.
Then Tyler’s voice cut across the lawn.
“NATE! COACH DOYLE IS ON THE CHALLENGE ACCOUNT COMMENTS. WHY DID HE JUST WRITE, GOOD LEADERSHIP?”
The entire lawn turned.
Ava’s face closed again, but not the same way.
This time, not hurt.
Panic.
Because public had arrived before private could breathe.
Nate pulled out his phone.
The Ridgeview Challenge account had posted the scholarship total with no kiss clip, no station mention, no sponsor framing.
Under it, Coach Doyle had commented from his verified team account:
Good leadership protects people, not optics. Well handled by Team One.
Then Tyler had replied:
Does this mean the bet is over or did Brennan win by losing?
Nate stared at the screen.
Ava did too.
Around them, phones started coming out.
The comment was already spreading.
The bet was no longer contained inside a team chat.
It was public.
Ava looked at Nate, eyes wide.
Nate knew, with perfect clarity, that if he did not end the bet now, it would become the thing that swallowed her again.
Not Trevor.
Not the sponsor.
Him.
He took one step toward the deck.
Ava grabbed his wrist.
“What are you doing?”
Nate looked back at her.
His heart was pounding.
For once, not from fear.
From choice.
“What I should have done on day one,” he said.
Then he walked toward Tyler, the microphone, and the entire crowd that had been betting on whether he would fall.