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So, he didn’t ask his mom to do everything for him.

I blinked, caught off guard by the confession. It was strangely endearing, picturing him in the kitchen trying to work what was, given how good it tasted, probably a very nice espresso machine to make me a coffee. “How did you even know this was how I liked it?”

“I notice things, Ari,” he said with a shrug. “You mixed your last drink like you were a mad scientist. Hard to miss.”

No. Those things were hard to miss. Gracie still asked what I wanted even though my order hadn’t changed in years. He saw me prep my coffee one time and then managed to get it perfect. My cheeks warmed, and unwanted butterflies exploded in my chest. Why did he care to pay attention to that? The question was on the tip of my tongue, but I chickened out.

“You didn’t tell your mom this was for me, did you?”

“Of course I did,” he said, like it was no big deal.

Meanwhile, my heart literally stalled in my chest, a million questions swirling in my mind.

What did she say?

What did she do with her hands when you told her?

What did her face do when she heard about me?

“She knows I don’t drink coffee, so there was no way it was for me. Oh, by the way, she told me to tell you that she hopes you kick all of our asses.” He relayed his mother’s words with a shake of his head.

I wanted to smile, but I was too busy fighting off a panic attack that he’d told his mom about me.

“Did you tell her about us?” I blurted out.

His gaze cut over to me, something like guilt flashing in his eyes. “No. I didn’t tell her we were dating, just that you’re the new coach…and that…I like you.”

Of course, that was the exact moment we pulled up to the studio, so I didn’t get a chance to grill him on what exactly he’d meant by that last part.

The guys were already outside, shooting wary glances at the door like they’d been led into a trap. Jimenez eyed the studio sign with open horror. It wasn’t like I’d kept where we were going this morning a secret. One quick Google search would have shown them where the address led. Honestly, how were men still alive and making it through natural selection?

A woman probably helped.

Dalton let out a bark of laughter as he cut the engine. “Oh, they are going to love this.”

The nerves induced by our conversation melted away, and a smile pulled at the corners of my mouth. “They’re going to hate it, but I’m going to love witnessing the suffering,” I said with a smirk, moving to open the door, but the lock engaged as soon as my hand touched the handle.

“Don’t you dare,” Dalton warned, already halfway out of his side.

“What the hell? Locking me in won’t get you out of this practice,” I yelled after him when he slammed his door shut, pointing at me through the windshield as he rounded the front of the car. My irritation faded when I realized what he was doing.

He yanked my door open, a boyish grin plastered on his face. “Darlin’, before you tell me…yes, I know you can do this yourself. But I’ll be damned if I pull up in front of all my teammates and let them see you open your own door.” His warm hand wrapped around mine and practically pulled me into his chest. The scent of clean laundry and cologne enveloped me, making me feel even more unsteady than I already did. “My momma raised me to be a gentleman, Ariella. ‘Fraid you’re going to have to get used to it.”

First the coffee, now the door opening.

Strawberry gloss coated my tongue as I gnawed on my bottom lip, trying to tamp down my feelings. If I was being honest, I liked it when he did things for me. Which was a bit of a mindfuck since I prided myself on my independence—but maybe both things could exist at the same time.

“You going to carry my bag too?” I sassed, trying to regain some semblance of control, even though I let him continue to hold my hand against his chest, his thumb absently stroking my skin.

“Naw, Sunshine. I like watching you lift heavy shit.” His gaze raked over my body like a physical caress. “It’s fucking hot.”

“Hey, lovebirds. Let’s go,” Jimenez yelled, reminding me I was supposed to be working.

Shit. Focus.

Dalton chuckled as I scrambled to get around him, practically running so I could put some space between us. Though part of me asked why I was trying to get away. Wasn’t the point supposed to be that they all believed we were dating? I was going to have to find a balance between girlfriend and professional.

Fake. Fake girlfriend.