Page 47 of The Rookie

I glare at her, but she just grins, clearly enjoying herself.

Cassie talks for a while—about her new fling, about my mom, about some ridiculous story involving her neighbor’s dog. Avery responds with the perfect blend of sass and sweetness, and I don’t say much, mostly because I can’t think straight. Avery’s close enough that I can smell her perfume—something soft and floral that’s doing a number on me.

Finally, Cassie wraps it up. “Alright, I’ll let you two go. Avery, keep my little brother in line for me, okay?”

“Will do,” Avery replies, and Cass hangs up.

I hit the end button and set the phone on the nightstand, fully expecting Avery to stand up and head back to her side of the room.

But she doesn’t.

Instead, she leans back on her palms, letting out a soft sigh. “Your sister’s fun. I see where you get the charm.”

“So youdothink I’m charming,” I smirk, trying to ignore how good she looks lounging next to me.

“Don’t get carried away, Knox,” she says, rolling her eyes.

There’s a pause—one of those rare, quiet moments where we’re not bickering or trying to one-up each other. Just…sitting.

“So,” I say, shifting to prop myself up on my elbow. “What about you? You never talk about your family.”

Avery’s smile falters a little, her gaze flicking to the window. “Not much to say, really. It’s just me, my brother, and my mom.”

I nod, waiting, and after a moment, she glances back at me.

“She worked a lot when I was growing up, so I had to figure out a lot of things on my own. That’s probably why I’m such a control freak now.” She laughs softly, but there’s no real humor in it.

“You’re not a control freak,” I say, surprising myself.

She raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe a little,” I admit. “But that’s not a bad thing. You’ve got your shit together. It’s impressive.”

Avery tilts her head, studying me like I’ve said something she doesn’t quite believe. “You really think that?”

I shrug. “Yeah. I mean, look at you—you’re smart, you’re ambitious. You know what you want. Did you apply to the Fulbright in Spain yet?”

She looks down at her hands, quiet for a beat. “I didn’t apply yet. And as for knowing what I want—I thought I did. But maybe…maybe I don’t know.”

The words are soft, almost too soft to catch, but they make something twist in my chest.

“Is this about Gavin?” I ask carefully.

She snorts, shaking her head. “God, no. Gavin’s a footnote at this point.”

I grin. “Didn’t look like that when you were crying over him and all sad the other night.”

She punches me lightly in the shoulder. “I wasnotcrying. I was…processing.”

“Right.”

We fall quiet again, but it’s not awkward. If anything, it feels nice. Comfortable, even.

“You ever think about what you want?” she asks suddenly, turning the question back on me. “Like, after football?”

The question catches me off guard, but I force a shrug. “Haven’t really thought about it. Football’s the plan, and the plan’s working so far.”

“And when it stops working?”

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