Page 78 of With the Assist

Her eyes meet mine and widen slightly, like she didn’t expect me to be standing in my own hallway.

She’s here, at my place, unexpectedly and utterly by choice. Regardless of the hesitancy written all over her face, I choose to cling to the fact that she sought me out.

I’m aware of Liam beside me and Wyatt hovering awkwardly near the door, but I’d blink them away if I could. Hell, I’d shove them out the door. Maybe I will.

All I can think is that she came here.

Wesley swallows. “Hi.”

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

I’ve faced sold-out arenas, contract negotiations, pressure that crushes people, and none of it compares to standing three feet from her, in my apartment, unsure of what comes next.

21

Wesley

Ishould be in an Uber.

That’s the thought that keeps repeating in my head as I stand outside a penthouse door that definitely does not belong to me, clutching my phone as if it might still save me from whatever impulsive spiral led me here.

Twenty minutes ago, I was laughing over cocktails with the girls, swearing I was done making questionable decisions for at least the rest of the week.

Ten minutes ago, I told myself it was fine to walk home alone, that I needed the air and was just thinking.

Five minutes ago, I looked up the address of this building and realized it was within walking distance.

Now I am here.

I stare at the door, half-expecting it to reject me outright, like a bouncer who knows I shouldn’t be here. My heart is beating faster than it does during a game, which is irritating considering I pride myself on being in control of my body and choices. This is not a controlled choice. This is me losing my mind because I can’t stop thinking about the way Nathan looked at me earlier this week.

I can still leave. No one knows I’m here. No one would know if I left.

I knock.

There’s a sound on the other side of the door, but it stays closed.

Now. Now I should leave.

I knock again because apparently I hate myself.

This time, the door opens almost immediately.

The man standing there is tall, broad, and not Nathan.

He has dark hair, a sharp jaw, and an expression that suggests he would rather be doing literally anything else. He looks at me like I’m an unexpected maintenance issue.

I blink once. I was certain this was Nathan’s penthouse. Hell, the tabloids have practically published that it is.

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly, already mortified. “I must have the wrong place.”

He squints at me, then looks past me, as if checking whether I brought a problem with me, then yells back into the apartment. “Uh. It’s not the pizza!”

I step back, fumbling for dignity, when a voice carries from inside.

Before I can escape, a blond man rounds the corner into view, wearing a grin that belongs on a billboard. The air leaves my lungs.

The realization hits me all at once, pieces snapping together in a way I don’t appreciate. Of course, this is Nathan’s place. Of course, there are other people here. Liam and Wyatt, whom I now recognize. I’m standing here unannounced like a fucking stalker.