Page 21 of Can't Always Get What You Want

"Your phone," I say, holding out a hand. "Show me the picture. You know—I might want a copy since it’s our first date and all."

I tilt my head, keeping my expression light even though every muscle in my body is on high alert. "Come on, man. If it’s just a picture, no harm in showing me, right?"

His throat bobs as he swallows. Then, after a moment of obvious internal debate, he lets out a short breath and flips his phone around.

It’s a photo of me. Sitting at the bar. Nova is in the frame too,her head tilted toward me mid-laugh, the neon glow of the rainforest-themed lights casting soft shadows over both of us.

Nothing shady. No weird angles. No sign that he was trying to capture anythingotherthan what he claims.

Still, my gut churns.

He shrugs. "See? Just a fan. I swear."

I squint down at him. “You realize this is an invasion of my privacy?”

And she has a brother who is a complete dick about her dating his teammates? No good would come of him finding out through social media that she was out with me. I don’t like the idea of Nova’s brother—oranyone else—getting the wrong idea about this night because some random dude wanted a candid shot for clout.

“I’m so sorry, bro. I watch all your games, man. Big fan—" He rubs the back of his neck. "Didn’t want to bother you for a real picture."

I don’t respond right away, letting the moment stretch.

Then, finally, I nod. "Next time, just ask."

His shoulders sag in relief. "Yeah, of course. My bad. Won’t happen again."

I step back, watching as he tucks his phone away and slips toward the exit.

Nova appears beside me, frowning. "What the hell was that?"

I glance down at her, forcing a smirk. "Apparently, I’m a big deal."

She doesn’t laugh when I explain that I’d caught the guy taking photos of us. “You believe he was only a hockey fan?"

I roll my shoulders, trying to shake off the weird feeling still sitting in my chest. "Doesn’t matter."

The evening feels ruined.

Nova studies me, her brows drawn together like she’s trying to see past my easygoing exterior.

"Itdoesmatter," she says, putting her hand on my shoulder, asif consoling me. "If this guy was just a fan, why does it feel so sketch?"

I exhale, rubbing a hand down my face. "I don’t know."

I hate that answer. I hate not knowing, not having control over what happens next. Because if that photo ends up online, it’s not justmeit affects. It’s her. And her brother.

Nova must sense it too because she exhales, pushing our drink away like she’s lost her appetite. "Well, this sucks."

I huff out a humorless laugh. "Yeah. Kinda does."

She leans against the bar, watching me carefully. "You wanna leave?"

I do.

I don’t.

I want to go somewhere else, somewhereprivate, where I don’t have to worry about phones or social media or some random guy waiting for a payday at my expense.

But I also don’t want the night to end likethis.

---