Page 147 of Hit Me With Your Best Shot

“Wait, you’re seriously gonna stalk him right now?” I ask, laughing.

“Of course,” she says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Her fingers fly over the screen as she types his name into the search bar. “If I’m gonna reject him in my head, I might as well have receipts to back up my claims.”

I lean over, peering at her screen as she pulls up Luca Babineaux’s profile. His profile picture is exactly what I expect—him in his Baddies jersey, smiling at the camera like he’s uncomfortable even being photographed.

“Classic,” I comment. “The humble athlete pose.”

“Let’s dig deeper,” Nova says, clicking on his tagged photos. The first few are standard fare—team pictures, action shots on the court, and group photos at what looks like team dinners.

But then she scrolls past a photo of Luca holding a black lab retriever puppy that was posted four days ago, his smile wide and genuine.

“Oh, come on,” I groan. “He has apuppy? That’s an automatic ten points. You can’t hate on him for that.”

Nova narrows her eyes. “He’stooperfect. Of course he has a puppy.” She scoffs. “I bet he volunteers at an animal shelter on the weekends.”

“Would thatreallybe so bad?” I tease. “You could be the one to turn him into a bad boy—like not returning library books on time.”

She snorts, scrolling further. “Fine. Maybe he’s notthatterrible,but look at this.” She pauses on a photo of Luca at what looks like a team charity event.

He’s wearing a Santa hat and holding a plate of cookies while surrounded by kids.

“Aww. Santa Luca,” I say, stifling a laugh. “Too nice, too wholesome. He’d probably text you good morningandgood night. What a jerk.”

“Nope.” Nova groans dramatically, tossing her phone onto the couch. “Can’t do it. I’d suffocate under all the kindness.”

“Or,” I counter. “You’dfinallymeet someone who doesn’t ghost you after three dates.”

Her lips twitch, but she doesn’t say anything, blue gaze drifting to the large windows.

“You know,” I say softly. “Your brother makes a valid point. A guy like Luca, who is less exciting than your last dating app match, may not be the worst thing.”

Nova doesn’t respond right away, and for a moment, the room is quiet except for the faint hum of the city outside. Then she sighs, picking up her phone again.

“I dunno.” She taps on the puppy photo again. “I’ll give him this—the dog is cute. But I’m not sold on the whole package.”

I laugh, nudging her with my elbow. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And proud of it,” she replies, her grin returning as she sets her phone down. “Maybe a boyfriend and kids aren’t in the cards for me.”

I roll my eyes. She is twenty-six years old.

“You make it sound like you’re seventy years old.”

“I feel seventy—like I’ve been at this for years.” Gio’s sister heaves out a massive sigh. “My ovaries are drying up.”

This is it.

The perfect window of opportunity.

I suck in a breath.

“You know whose ovaries aren’t drying up?” I quip. “Mine.”

She laughs like I’m kidding, petting the dog.

“Yeah, okay. Like you’re over here bursting with fertility or something. What are you even talking about?”

I hesitate, my fingers fidgeting with the edge of the faux fur blanket.The joke had been a test—a way to gauge how she might react. But now that the moment’s here, my throat tightens, and the words feel impossible to say.

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