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Her fingers touch the edge of my sweater, not enough to pull, just enough to make the air change.

I look down at her hand. Then back at her. “Nate is outside.”

“And I think you need to loosen up a bit,” she says.

“He could come back in.”

“I know that too.”

For once, I’m the one trying to be sensible. She seems to find that deeply inconvenient.

Then the front door opens, and we both go still.

“Mags?” Nate calls.

Maggie closes her eyes briefly, and the expression on her face is so annoyed and embarrassed and completely human that I almost smile.

“In the kitchen,” she calls back.

I step away before Nate appears, though there’s no point pretending I wasn’t standing too close.

Nate looks from her to me, then to the sink. His eyebrows lift. “I have to head out for a bit,” he says.

Maggie straightens immediately. “Why?”

“Nothing bad.”

“Nate.”

“I need to meet someone. I’ll explain later.”

“That sentence is never reassuring.”

“I know.” He grabs his jacket from the chair, then looks at me. “We need a rematch.”

“You’ll lose,” I say.

Maggie’s jaw drops open. I raise an eyebrow. Here’s me loosening up, I almost say to her.

His grin comes back, quick and real. “Oh, excellent. He trash talks.”

Maggie points toward the door. “Go before I regret feeding you.”

“You didn’t feed me. He did.”

“Out.”

Nate hugs her at the door. It’s quick, but I see the way she holds on for half a second longer than he expects. He notices too, though he has the decency not to mention it.

Then he’s gone. Maggie locks the door and stands there with her hand still on the knob.

I wait.

She takes a breath before turning around. “He knows something is wrong,” she says.

“Yes.”

“I’m going to tell him.”