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hotness. But there was nothing between them. There never had been, and there never would be.
    From the first moment she’d met Nick, Teagan had known he was way out of her league. That knowledge had prevented her from crushing on her brother’s best friend. It also had made it possible for them to become friends—buddies who hung out when the opportunity arose.
    She elbowed Nick in the ribs to get him to step back, and he grunted a little before moving away from her. Grabbing a couple of napkins, she wrapped his brownie and handed it to him.
    â€œMilk?” he asked, his expression hopeful.
    She shook her head in amusement. They’d fallen back into their old habits pretty quickly.
    â€œYou’re like a five-year-old,” she teased as she poured him a glass of milk.
    Nick shrugged, clearly not offended by her assessment. He took the milk and brownie and waited on her to lead the way to the living area.
    She sat down on one end of her navy velvet sofa and tucked her legs under her. He plopped down next to her, taking up way too much space. With a sigh, he propped his tennis shoe–clad feet on her coffee table. After placing his napkin-wrappedbrownie on his flat stomach, he broke off a piece of it and popped it into his mouth.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” she asked again.
    He turned his head, and their eyes met. He swallowed before answering, “Traded.”
    Quinn had told her Nick had been traded to the Colonials, but for some reason, it hadn’t really dawned on her that they’d be living in the same city. “Right. I forgot. How long have you been in town?”
    He made a humming noise. “Seven days.”
    She cocked her head. “Are you counting the days or something? Why not just say a week?”
    He took a big gulp of his milk and waved his hand around the room. “Like your place.”
    â€œMe, too. Although I probably paid way too much for it.”
    â€œYou can afford it,” he noted with a shrug.
    He was right. Thanks to Grandma Violet, Teagan was an heiress. Her grandmother had divided her estate equally among her grandchildren, and they all had trust funds in the millions.
    â€œWhen I got the news I had been accepted to my program, I planned to rent an apartment near campus. But the rental housing in Cambridge is horrible.”
    â€œSpoiled,” Nick noted, giving her a big wink.
    She laughed. “You think I’m spoiled?”
    He nodded emphatically as he took another bite of brownie. The teasing glint in his eye took the sting out of his words, though.
    â€œIf you had seen some of the apartments . . . they were worse than a frat house.” She shuddered dramatically. “They were
disgusting
.”
    He chuckled. “Spoiled.”
    Her condo was one of two penthouse units in a six-story building that had been built in the early 1900s. It had been a hotel prior to being redeveloped into housing, and every single unit had a different floor plan.
    Her particular condo featured a large living area that flowed into the kitchen and dining space. It had two bedrooms, one of which she used for an office, and two full bathrooms. By Cambridge standards, it was luxurious.
    â€œYou’re right,” she admitted. “You know, this is the first time I’ve ever lived by myself. I think I’m officially an adult,” she added.
    He stared at her for several moments, his eyes assessing. She was a little unnerved by his scrutiny, so she nabbed his glass of milk and took a drink. He pointed to her mouth.
    â€œWhat?” she asked, running her fingers across her lips.
    â€œMilk.”
    â€œI have a milk mustache?” He nodded, and she laughed softly. “So much for being an adult.”
    *   *   *
    Nick couldn’t take his eyes off Teagan—who was definitely an adult, despite her milk mustache. He didn’t recall the last time he’d seen her, but something was