Maybe Lottie crossed a line, but that asshole had it coming. Someone had to put an end to the week-long pestering and catcalling you faced because of him — and Lottie was more than happy to be that person.

She’d never admit it to anyone, but being able to hire someone to scare him into acting right came with a twisted sense of satisfaction. He didn’t even last a full minute before swearing on his life he’d never come near you again, even promising not to tell a soul about what happened (not that anyone would believe him anyway).

But what should’ve been a moment of victory turned sour when you frown over the news of his injury, fussing and asking if he was ok. It’s obvious you don’t care for his sudden change of heart, but rather how Montana is suddenly becoming unsafe after sunset — especially for someone like you two who always stay late for practices.

Still, she can’t help with how her jaw clenches when you ask if he’s okay.

“…I wouldn’t mind having my driver drop you off until they catch whoever did that. ” She says, feigning careful casual as if she isn’t dying to have you say yes. Having an excuse to keep you close is nice, even if she’s still annoyed that your first concern was him.