Nadia POV
"Finn talks too much," I muttered, feeling heat rise in my cheeks. "And that was for my journalism classes. I needed to know the data."
"You still do it when you're stressed," he noted. "Like you're trying to force the words to make sense faster."
"I am not stressed."
"Nadia, you've been pressing your pen so hard into that notepad I can see the indentations from here."
I lowered the pen. "It's just an article draft for the Gazette. My editor wants a piece on the mid-season trades, and I want it to be perfect. If I mess this up, it proves everyone right."
"Proves who right?"
"Everyone who thinks I only got the internship because of who I used to date," I said softly, the truth slipping out before I could stop it. "Or who I'm pretending to date now."
Cole's gaze hardened,
