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Once my glass is empty, I tell him I need to use the restroom. I’m gone before he acknowledges the excuse. All my Scholenberg companions have drifted away from the bar by now. Alexis and Ellie are crowded in one of the round booths along the edge. I start toward them, only to be stopped with a sharp tug on my wrist.
Angry blue eyes meet mine.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Beck asks me.
“Walking,” I answer.
He growls, an actual low vibration of anger. “You shouldn’t be talking to guys like that.”
“Guys like what?” I spit out in response. “Hot guys? German guys? Guys who learn a girl plays soccer—sorry, football—and start going on and on about how incredible Adler Beck is? You’re going to need to be more specific.”
He raises one eyebrow. “You were talking about me?”
“You done being jealous?”
“I’m not jealous.”
“You’re mad at me for talking to another guy. That is the textbook definition of jealousy.”
“You’re in a strange city and you know two German words. Leaving with some random guy is stupider than playing with a bad knee.”
“I can take care of myself, Beck,” I retort. “I’ve been doing it for a long ass time. And you didn’t seem to mind when that random guy was you.”
“That’s all I am? Some random guy?”
“I…” I glance around, realizing I’m not imagining the feel of eyes on me. “People are staring.”
He shakes his head, then drops his hand. “What are we doing, Saylor?”
“I don’t know.” I whisper the words, so low I’m not sure if he even hears them.
We’ve avoided—or I’ve avoided, and he’s followed my lead—discussing it since the hiking trip he claimed was a date and I told him wasn’t. We have a lot of sex and he knows me, understands me, better than most people. Better than any person, possibly. But he’s not just an athlete, he’s a celebrity. We might have both grown up in small towns, but most similarities end there. I’m just a girl trying to succeed in a sport because I can’t not. Because it’s everything to me, and failing would be devastating.
Hearing the question spoken out loud is a relief. It’s also scary.
“Okay,” Beck says, clenching his jaw as soon as the word is out, as if to restrain more from exiting.
“Okay,” I repeat. But it doesn’t feel like we’ve actually agreed about anything.
I’m prepared for this to end. I’ve been prepared for this to end. But I know it’ll still hurt when it does, which has never happened before.
“I’m headed out,” he tells me.
This is when I should put some more space between us. Find some guy in here who doesn’t follow football, has never heard of Adler Beck, and leave with him. Show all the girls I’m here with that Beck means nothing to me. Prove it to myself.
Instead, I ask, “Do you want company?”
He studies me for a few seconds, and I’m momentarily terrified he’s going to tell me no. To decide this thing between us is messy and unnecessary.
Finally, he nods.
I glance around, making eye contact with Ellie first. She’s out on the dance floor with a few of the other girls, including Alexis. I tilt my head toward Beck and she nods, receiving my silent message. I mouth Sorry too, hoping it’s a blanket apology for leaving early and for not telling her about Beck. Who I’m having sex with is none of her business, but she’s my closest friend here. I’m sure she’s hurt I didn’t share.
We draw even more attention as we leave, plenty of drunk people recognizing Beck and calling out to him. He keeps a protective palm on my lower back, guiding me through the commotion surrounding us.
The valet pulls up his car immediately, and we climb inside. Charged silence fills the vehicle as we drive along, the tension suffocating in the small sports car. It feels like the first time we’re doing this, but my body is also desperate, craving the release it’s come to expect from him.
“Is it always like that?” I ask Beck as we reach his street.
