Page 79 of With the Assist

Liam’s eyebrows lift when he sees me, surprise flashing across his face before something distinctly entertained replaces it.

“It’s…” Liam trails off. “Dude. Wilder. It’s for you.”

My mouth opens and closes. “I was just, I mean, I didn’t realize.”

Behind him, the apartment is loud with the faint sound of a video game’s theme music carrying down the hall. Every instinct in me screams retreat.

Footsteps sound, heavier than Liam’s, more deliberate.

Then he appears.

Grey sweatpants are slung low on his hips, and a white cut-off shows off his muscles beneath it. Nathan’s hair looks like he’s run his hands through it one too many times, leaving it messy. He looks nothing like he does at our workouts, or the gala, or even our two fake dates. He looks casual and comfortable, and so fucking attractive that my chest actually clenches.

“Hi.” My brain short-circuits long enough that I forget how to breathe.

He stops when he sees me, his expression unreadable but intent, eyes locking onto mine like everything else in the room has ceased to exist.

I’m painfully aware of the people behind him and their attention. My coming here was already a bad idea, but now it feels inappropriate. I’m an idiot.

“I shouldn’t have come,” I say too fast, words tumbling over each other. “I didn’t realize you had people over, and this was a mistake.”

Nathan doesn’t look away from me.

“Get out,” he says quietly.

Liam snorts. “Wow, you aren’t actually kicking us out? Right?”

Nathan’s jaw tightens, but his eyes stay on me. “I said get the fuck out.”

The room stirs behind him, protests and laughter mixing together.

“Relax, man.” Grayson appears from the other room.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Liam says with a wink, clearly enjoying my suffering.

“Dude.” Grayson slaps Liam in the back of the head as they push through the door.

Wyatt looks at me, then at Nathan, and shakes his head like a disappointed dad.

I stand frozen in the doorway, my cheeks burning, suddenly very aware that the hallway feels larger without their presence.

The silence presses in.

I swallow, nerves buzzing under my skin as the reality of being alone with him settles heavily in my chest. Why am I here?

He clears his throat and gestures toward the apartment, the movement subtle but deliberate.

“Come in.”

The words hit me like a starter pistol, and instead of moving, I panic.

“I really shouldn’t,” I say immediately, the sentence tripping over itself. “I mean, I don’t normally show up at people’s homes, especially not unannounced, and I swear I’m not a stalker even though this absolutely makes me look like one, and that sounds worse when I say it out loud, but I promise I’m not unhinged.”

Nathan doesn’t interrupt me.

He just watches.

His expression is unreadable, but his attention is absolute, as if he’s letting me burn through all the nervous energy I brought with me. The silence stretches, my rambling finally running out of oxygen as I realize I’m talking to fill the space I’m too afraid to step into.