Page 118 of With the Assist

The house goes quiet.

Nathan and I are left alone in the living room, the remnants of a very full, very loud evening still hanging in the air.

“Thanks for inviting me.” He shifts, his knee brushing against mine.

“It’s no big deal.”

“It was to me.” He stands, rubbing his palms against his jeans.

“You don’t deserve to be alone.”

“Neither do you, Wesley,” He murmurs.

The air leaves my lungs.

The meaning behind his words is clear. He’s not talking about tonight. He’s talking about all of it. I chew on my bottom lip, watching him.

“I’ve dedicated my whole life to soccer. To being the best.”

“At what cost?” There is no judgment in his words, just a sadness that even his smile can’t mask.

The truth is, it’s cost me a whole hell of a lot. But to change things after coming this far would make the past years of missing out on things all for nothing. My chest tightens just thinking about it. Everything I’ve sacrificed can’t be for nothing.

The evening full of fun becomes loaded with things we both want to say but won’t.

“I’ll walk you outside.” I don’t know what else to say.

I don’t know how to address it. Whatever this is. Fake. Real. Convenient. It’s all blurred, and tonight’s not the night to figure it out.

The cold air outside is disorienting after the warm evening. Our breath is visible between us as we reach his car. He unlocks it, climbing into the driver’s seat. This is the part where I should say goodnight and go back inside.

Instead, I open the passenger door and slide in.

He pauses, eyes searching my face carefully, as if trying to figure out if this is real and not another line I’m about to redraw. I don’t give my anxiety time to speak. I lean across the console and kiss him.

Surprise turns to heat in an instant. His hand comes to my jaw, thumb brushing my cheek with a tenderness that nearly undoes me. The car is freezing, until it’s not. The world narrows to breath and the familiar pull between us that’s been building since the last time I had his mouth on me. It was only days ago, but it feels like forever.

When he draws me over the center console, settling me partly onto his lap with unspoken care, I go willingly, heart racing. The windows slowly fog as the space fills with warmth and want.

Our hands roam, tangling in hair and clothes, in the pursuit of skin. Time loses all meaning as he kisses his way down my neck, his breath hot against my ear. Eventually, his lips find mine again, and our kissing slows from hungry to something more lingering. A gentle exploration of how deep our connection may go.

All too soon, I ease back, resting my forehead against his, both of us breathing hard.

“I should go back inside,” I murmur.

“Okay,” he says, but there’s caution there, a quiet uncertainty left over from the last time I hit the brakes.

Knowing that I’ve made him doubt himself more than he already does sends an ache crashing through my chest.

“When can I see you again?” I ask.

“We’re training on Monday.”

“Not for training.”

His mouth curves. “Another public date?”

“What I have in mind,” I say, voice low, “is not really public-friendly.”