Page 3 of With the Assist

But underneath it was a bite of jealousy because she could choose a lower-paying career as a teacher without consequences. I’d never tell her that, though. If she is happy, I’m happy for her.

I clear my throat, throwing myself back into the line of fire. “Okay. What about when we wrapped every single thing in Coach Bennett’s office with Christmas wrapping paper?”

Harper’s quiet demeanor is replaced with laughter. Mission accomplished.

Avery’s face lights up. “Every single paperclip. It took her hours to unwrap it all.”

“And it took us a week of suicides to pay for it.”

“Worth it, but that was a year ago. If you're counting that as your most recent fun, we have a problem.”

I don’t want to unpack that. Not tonight. Maybe, not ever.

“You’re twenty-five,” Avery says. “Single and hot. The room will be filled with professional athletes who have stamina.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

“I have stamina,” I say, knowing that’s not what she means.

“You know what you don’t have?”

Harper cuts her off. “She means a partner who’s not battery-operated.”

“You know nothing about my vibrator.”

“You mean the one over here?” Avery sprints toward my nightstand drawer, but I stop her by launching a pillow across the room.

“Leave him alone!” I squeal, cheeks flushing when I realize I gave it a gender.

They both turn their heads to me, eyebrows raising, before we dissolve into a fit of laughter. For a moment, all the pressure and expectations fade.

These two are the only people who somehow get me to let my guard down. They might tease me about being too serious and focused, but they know I have my reasons, and they accept them. They accept me.

My circle may be small, but I’d take two friends like them over anyone else every single time.

“Seriously, though, you need to put yourself out there. We’re only this young once.” Avery gives me her look. The one that says ‘I’m right and you will not win this.’

“I’ve tried dating.” I switch the contents of my everyday purse into my small clutch. “They all suck.”

The real truth is more embarrassing. It’s been four years without sex. Not because the opportunity hasn’t been there, but because I refuse to waste time on building a connection that might not even last. My family needs my support, which means my career needs my attention. Connections and sex are just noise. They’ll still be there when my athleticism fades.

Avery reapplies her red lipstick for a final time and offers it to me. I shake my head. It would inevitably end up all over my teeth. She shoves it into her purse. “Listen. You don’t have to hook up with anyone. Appreciate the view. Live a little.”

“I live plenty.”

“You live on a training schedule,” Harper says gently.

I shrug. There’s no use pretending otherwise with them. “It works.”

It has to.

My phone buzzes on the counter with a message from Coach Bennett.

Coach Bennett: Don’t be late. Represent us well.

As if I need the reminder.

I groan. “She texts like my dad.” The words slip out, and for a brief second, something twists inside me. My dad used to text that way before the hospital visits became more frequent. Before I started covering bills and pretending it didn’t scare me. We stick to phone calls now.

It’s just another reason why I’m working so hard to make the National Team. With him not working anymore, it falls on me to ensure that we’re taken care of financially. It’s the least I can do.