Page 55 of With the Assist

“Soccer?”

I nod.

“I love it,” she says instantly without an ounce of hesitation. “I love it so fucking much.”

“That whole thing sounds small,” she adds, “but it showed me exactly what I have to lose.” Her eyes meet mine. “And how careful I have to be not to lose it.”

“It doesn’t sound small,” I say.

My hand slides down from her back to her hand, fingers threading with hers. It’s all in the name of our fake date, but honestly, I just want to touch her.

Behind us, a familiar voice cuts through the noise, breaking the tension.

“So,” Liam says loudly, climbing out of his chair. “Who wants to dance?”

One of the girls from Wesley’s team stands, luring Liam onto the floor. Eventually, the empty dance floor is completely full of teammates and strangers dancing to whatever pop song pounds through the speakers.

Wesley stiffens almost imperceptibly.

I turn to her, keeping my voice low. “Dance with me.”

She opens her mouth to say no. I can read it on her face.

Harper nudges her side, smiling like she knows exactly what Wesley’s thinking.

Wesley hesitates, then sighs. “Fine.”

I don’t let her obvious distaste for the idea stop me from trying my luck. When I take her hand and lead her toward the floor, she doesn’t pull away.

The first song is upbeat. She turns her back to me, moving easily and laughing when Avery says something to her from across the floor while dancing with some guy I don’t recognize.

We move to the beat. I keep my hands respectful, light on her waist, more for show than anything else.

I’m actively willing myself to behave and not press against her more firmly.

She smells good, like citrus and cinnamon. Her hair brushes my chin when she tilts her head back, and I close my eyes, letting myself pretend this isn’t for show.

The song changes, and the lights dim, setting the tone for something slower.

My hands adjust as she turns to face me, toying with the bottom of her shirt, letting my fingers trail across her bare skin. Her arms come up, resting loosely around my neck. We sway more than dance now, bodies close in a way that feels different than before.

I look down at her. Her lashes cast shadows against her cheeks, and there’s a crease between her brows like she’s thinking too hard about this.

I want to kiss her.

I don’t want to scare her off.

Before I can decide what to do, Liam’s voice cuts through the moment.

“Your teammates are watching pretty closely.”

Ever the wingman, he nods his head across the room to a cluster of girls who’re watching Wesley, as if her being here is too strange to be real.

“You really never come to this kind of thing?” I ask, trying to understand why she refuses to let herself have fun.

“No, not really. That’s probably why they’re looking at me like I have three heads.”

“Do you think they’ll report back to your coach?”