Page 26 of With the Assist

Finally, I whisper, “I’ll text him.”

Harper gasps. “You have his number?”

“Why didn’t you start there?” Avery locks her phone screen, tossing it away and giving me her full attention.

I pull out my phone, which feels heavier than it should. Am I really going to do this? This morning, I told him no. My heart stutters and then plunges at the idea of spending time with him. Training is bad enough, but pretending to date him?

It’s ridiculous.

We’d have to seem together in a way that I hadn’t let myself be in a long time. I can’t tell if I’m twisted from the lie, the distraction of working out with someone else, or if it’s because of Nathan himself. Probably a combination of all of the above.

I blow out a breath. “What do I even say?”

“Be hot,” Avery says.

I try typing out everything, but when I get to the fake boyfriend part, I chicken out. Typing out that I told my coach we were dating is an embarrassment I’m not sure I’d ever recover from. So, I split the difference. My thumbs shake while I type.

Me: Hey. About helping you train… I’ll do it. But on one condition.

I don’t bother letting him know it's me.

Avery fans herself. “That could be interpreted in so many ways.”

“It’s not even flirtatious.” Harper reads over my shoulder.

“I can’t say it in the message, it’s too embarrassing,” I groan.

“Right, get him in front of you, then flirt your way into a yes,” Avery says.

I hit send before I lose courage. “No one is flirting here. Not him. Not me.”

He replies immediately.

Of course he does.

Nathan: One condition? Should I be worried?

Me: Probably.

Three dots blink.

Nathan: And here I thought you were the reasonable one.

My pulse stutters. I hate that it does.

Nathan: Tell me the condition.

Me: Meet me at the field again on Tuesday at 7am.

There’s a beat.

Nathan: Bossy. I like it. I’ll be there.

A flush crawls up my neck. God help me.

“Right, no flirting,” Avery squeals. “He’s so into you.”

Me: And this time? Don’t be late.