Page 80 of With the Assist

When I stop, he speaks again.

“Wesley, just come in.”

There’s no edge to it this time, only certainty.

“Okay.” My feet move before my brain catches up, and suddenly I’m inside his apartment.

It’s simple and modern with plain white walls that seem to stretch on forever. I’m not sure what I expected, but this wasn’t it. He’s so friendly and charming. This apartment is impersonal in a way that bothers me.

Nathan lives here. He lives here, but it looks like anyone could.

He steps toward me, our bodies close enough that the heat of him burns into me, close enough that my pulse starts doing something reckless.

“You always act like you’ve got everything under control, but you always look at me like you’re about to lose it.”

I hate the way he sees me. Despite my best efforts at blocking him out, he always manages to see right past my walls. And he’s right, I’m about to lose it entirely.

For a second, we just stand here.

Then he reaches behind me to shut the door fully, the click of the lock breaking whatever trance I’ve fallen into. He pulls back, giving me space, and I suck in a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“I’m sorry,” I say again, quieter this time. “For interrupting your night.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not.”

I look up at him, searching his face for signs that he’s only being polite, but there are none. Instead, he looks pleased and maybe relieved.

“Do you want some pumpkin pie?” he asks, nodding toward the kitchen. “I can’t promise it’s safe.”

I follow his gaze and spot a sad-looking pie on the counter, still in its plastic container, untouched.

My face twists before I can stop it. “That looks like a crime.”

He laughs, the sound loosening the tension in my chest. “That’s what I said. They insisted.”

“I respect your survival instincts.” My gaze scans the space. “So, when you said you were watching film?”

“Yeah, it was with the guys,” he admits sheepishly.

I walk down the hall, entering the larger living area, only to find more impersonal decor.

“Your apartment is–”

“Nice?” He finishes.

“No.” I drag my hand across the painting on the far wall, it’s nothing but black and grey, like everything else. “It’s not very you.” I glance in his direction, only to find him trailing behind me.

“Oh.” He looks around as if seeing his own place with new eyes. “It’s not really. I wanted something bigger, so I sold my old place last fall. I was in the process of buying a new one.” He pauses, his jaw working. “But my agent got wind that my contract might not renew, so I decided to rent this place for the year.”

There’s pain in his eyes as he speaks. His shoulders are tight as he forces the words out. Seeing him so insecure does something to my heart that I don’t like.

The Blades would have to be insane not to want this man on their team. Nathan playing average is better than most guys could ever hope for. Besides, I’d come to learn that his dedication to that team was second to none. Looking around this apartment, I realize that Nathan doesn’t quite believe that anymore.

“Renting doesn’t mean you have to keep it impersonal.” I glance around, noting that there’s not a single personal picture frame. “Besides, you want to stay, right?”

“Well, yeah. That’s kind of the whole point.” He motions to me as if he has made his intentions perfectly clear.

“If you want to stay, then you need to act like you’re going to.” I turn to face him fully.