I steal a glance at him out of the corner of my eye and see the smirk plastered on his face. “You should be careful about making that expression so much. Your face might get stuck like that.”
“You’d probably like it.” He winks, and heat rushes to my cheeks as a flush works its way up. I turn my body the slightest bit more to try to hide it, but I should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy. Fletcher reaches around the front of me to grip my opposite shoulder and twist me so I’m facing him.
“Fletcher, what are you doing?” I protest, trying to twist back out of his grip, but he holds firm. Although I’m sure if I actually put up more of a fight about it, he’d instantly release me. “You’re kind of hindering my ability to do my job right now,” I say, hoping the daggers I’m sending his way with my eyes will meet their mark.
“Okay, you can turn back around now,” he declares as he drops his hold on my shoulder. “I wanted to check something,” he says with the widest smile on his face, and I feel like I failed the test. Only problem is I have no idea what the test was.
“And what’s that?” I say, twisting back to face toward the stands and crossing my arms over my chest. As if that can protect me from him seeing right through me and my tough exterior.
His breath tickles the shell of my ear, and I can hear the smug grin on his lips as he speaks. “I make you blush.”
“Do not.”Lies.
“Oh, yes, I do.” He steps around in front of me. I direct my gaze in the opposite direction from where he’s standing. “I noticed it when I first jogged out onto the field and winked at you.” He lowers his voice enough so I can still hear him, but that way no one else can overhear. “I saw that rosy pink start to climb its way onto your cheeks, even from across the field.” My gaze flicks to him in time to catch his eyes lazily trail along the exposed skin from the neckline of my blouse up to my cheeks, tracing the path the flush takes when it creeps its way onto my face. “And it did it again just now. Do I fluster you, Isa?” I quickly pull my eyes away and direct my attention elsewhere, but I don’t have to be looking right at him to know he’s wearing the most self-satisfied look.
“Certainly not.” I huff defensively.
He hums in acknowledgment, but it doesn’t quite sound like agreement. It sounds more like that’s exactly the answer he expected from me. And it’s not even the truth.
“So, have you re-thought my offer to be friends?”
“Do you always try to flirt with all your friends?” I snap.
“Well, obviously. Gotta keep the friendship interesting somehow, you know? Cooper still won’t cave and flirt backthough.” He lets out an exaggerated sigh. “But that’s fine. I know I’ll wear him down eventually.”
My lips twitch with the effort of restraining the laugh that wants to burst free at his response.
“Come on, Isa. I’m serious.” His voice loses all trace of humor, drawing my eyes to his and their earnestness. “What’s it going to take to get you to say yes to friends? I’ll flirt less if that’ll help. I’m sorry, I can’t help it around you, but I’ll try. Please?”
I hate that I was already considering his offer before tonight. Before he started begging. I let out a defeated sigh, and that sound alone has his lips tipping up into a smile, hope sparkling in his eyes. “Fine. We can be friends. But you definitely need to flirt less. And maybe tone it back with Cooper too, for his sake.” I try to keep my face straight, but I can’t help the small smile that breaks through.
“YES!” he cheers, throwing his arms in the air like he just hit a game-winning grand slam—look at me knowing what a grand slam is.
“Shhhh!” My eyes widen in panic, throwing my hands in his direction like I’m going to slap them over his mouth to silence him, but I catch myself at the last second and drop them back to my side. I whip my head around to see if anyone else noticed his sudden outburst, but it seems the only person who looks in our direction is Cooper, who raises a singular eyebrow in our direction as the corner of his mouth begins to lift in a knowing smile. “You need to not do that,” I whisper-shout, trying not to draw attention to us.
“Sorry, firecracker. I couldn’t help myself. I can’t believe you caved so soon. I was ready for at least another half hour of groveling. Or even this whole home game stretch.” I roll my eyes. “You’re not just saying yes to soften the blow of tonight’s loss, are you?”
I turn my attention back to the stands while I contemplate my response. I’m so tempted to tell him yes, it was to get him to chill out and get off my back about this. But the look on his face is hesitant and nearly dejected. I hate how it melts my frostiness. I don’t want to hurt his feelings. So, for that reason alone, I give him the truth. “No, Ryan, that’s not the reason.”
He sucks in a sharp breath. “Say that again.”
I give him a quick look of confusion. “Say what again? That’s not the reason?”
“No, my name.”
His name?It takes me a moment of replaying my words back before I realize I called him Ryan.
“Ryan?”
“Yes,” he breathes out. “I love hearing you call me Ryan.”
“Fletcher,” I warn, eyes hopefully conveying something stern.
“I’m not flirting!” He throws his hands up in a symbol of innocence. “Everyonecalls me Fletch or Fletcher. It’s so refreshing to have someone outside of my family call me by my name for once.”
“You yourself told me that people call you Fletcher and Fletch.”
“Yes, but what did I tell you to call me?” A soft smile crosses his lips.
