JAKE’S SHOT BOUNCED off the rim, and I cut left to retrieve it, ran to the other end of the court, and sank the winning shot. The ball whooshed through the net. It was one of the best sounds in the world, the ball going straight through. It almost competed with the sound of Britta’s little sigh when we’d hugged in the park, the slow intake of breath when I touched her. Almost. I’d tried time and time again to ignore the memory of that sound and the way it sent heat up my spine.
“That’s game!” Aaron clapped, and the other guys on the court joked with one another as we walked toward the benches. “Nice shot, Wes.”
“So close,” Jake muttered.
Aaron laughed and checked his phone. “Your definition of ‘close’ is creative. We were already up by like thirty points.”
Two of the other guys near us laughed, one of them clapping Jake on the shoulder before leaving the group. Jake continued, “We were just warming up.”
I fell onto the bench and took a gulp of water from my bottle. The next game had already started, the calls for the ball and playful jabs from the other group surrounding us again. “You’re right. The streak was imminent. You’ll get it next time.”
“Don’t coddle him, Wes. He has the money and gets to have that pretty face. We can remind him he sucks at basketball.”
Jake laughed and stretched his arms over his chest. “Wes has a pretty face, too.”
“Shit. I guess I’m the funny one.” Aaron checked his phone again and tapped out a text before tucking it in his pocket. “Hey, my better half just gifted me with the option to stay out.”
“I might suck at ball, but at least I’m not on a leash.” Jake playfully jabbed Aaron in the arm. The three of us walked toward the exit, waving to the other guys. “Do you need to ask permission to stay out late?”
Aaron rolled his eyes. “You know my wife and you know our kids. Do you know the shit I’d be in if I left her alone to do all the bedtime stuff herself with no notice?” We walked toward the parking lot, the evening air cool but not cold. It was a relief to not have to wear a coat anymore.
“You’re right,” Jake said. “She’d eviscerate you.”
“Exactly. I can’t believe you’re not letting Naya know.”
Jake’s laugh filled the space between us. “She’s out of town. Otherwise I would. I’m just as whipped as you.” He clicked the key fob and his trunk opened. They must have driven together, because Aaron threw his stuff in the back as well and motioned to the bar a couple blocks in the distance. “You up for a beer? You’re the lucky untethered one.”
I’d actually never seen two guys more enamored with or happy to be tethered to their partners. They were lucky. “Sure, why not?” Funny thing was, I’d had a moment where I considered texting Britta to let her know I wouldn’t be able to chat until later. It wasn’t a date or even anything planned, but we talked most nights. I’d ask her how her evening workout had gone, and we’d slowly fall into some random topic. I looked forward to it.
The sports bar wasn’t crowded, and we took a high-top table near the back where we could see the baseball game on TV. Jake poured beer from the pitcher we’d ordered. “How’s that program you’re working on together?”
“This guy came through,” Aaron said, handing me a glass. “The kids are going to love it.”
I shrugged. “It’s been cool.” I’d hired a student of Naya’s to help develop the curriculum in concert with the school. We weren’t even working with the kids yet and I loved it. It was like the feeling of coaching someone new when things clicked for them that first time. Between working on it and spending time with Britta, I almost felt like a new person compared to a few months earlier. Even dealing with my mom was—not easier, but I could manage it better. I still worried about Libby, but the panic I’d gotten used to felt more manageable, too. “Did I ever tell you I used to want to be a teacher?”
Jake leaned forward. “What made you change your mind?”
“The teaching program was hard to balance with football, and I needed the scholarship.” My exercise science degree had served me well so far, but working with this program, designing things for kids, it made me wonder if I’d made the right choice all those years before.
“Too bad,” Aaron said. “You would have been good at it.”
Britta had said the same thing before diving into her TILF description. Just then my phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out to check the screen.
Britta: Did you win?
I unlocked my phone, but Jake spoke before I could decide on an emoji response.
“Aaron, are we sure Wes is untethered?”
I looked up, and the two of them were smirking, enjoying their bit as fake commentators.
“Jake, from the look on his face when he got that text, I’d say the signs point to tethered.”
I shoved the phone back in my pocket and waved them off. “She’s a client.”
“Funny. None of my clients make me smile like that,” Jake joked. “Well, I guess Naya did.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Naya was a client?”
He took a drink from his glass before continuing. “Kind of. When Nay and I met, I was consulting for her university. The whole time, when we were first together, my company was making recommendations about her department being cut. That would have been a little before you started hanging out with us.”
“What happened?”
Jake shrugged. “We got through it, but it kind of sucked.”
Aaron groaned. “That was a mess.”
“How’d you get past it?”
Jake laughed. “We all have ethical codes, but between doing something professionally dicey and taking the risk to be with her?” He took a sip from his glass. “No contest.”
* * *
WE FINISHED MOST of our pitcher and talked for a while before heading home. Aaron’s comment that I would have been a good teacher stuck with me, and I decided not to check the growing number of FitMi emails in my inbox. Jake’s story about how he met Naya and about risk . . . that stuck with me, too.
I had a message waiting from Britta, and I made myself wait to respond. In the park the weekend before, I’d wanted to kiss her. My body and mind were there, and I was seconds away from lowering my mouth to hers. She’d tipped her face up, and I’d sworn it was a perfect moment.
But then that cyclist passed by and I’d realized where we were, and who we were, and that stopped me. Add to that Kelsey running into us, and there was too much risk involved. So, I’d waited to respond, not giving in to the urge to look as soon as I picked up my phone. Now, fresh from the shower and sitting on my bed, I unlocked the device.
Britta: Did you win?
Wes:
Wes: You know it. How was your workout?
Britta: Helen kicked my butt as always. You should hire her.
Wes: Give her my info.
Britta: I’m not supposed to have your info, remember? I swear, I’m going to get you fired.
I leaned against the headboard, the wood cool on my bare back, my thumbs hovering over the screen keyboard. “Just have her contact FitMi” was easy advice, especially since Britta didn’t know my role at the company, but maybe this was my chance to come clean. I scratched at the stubble on my jaw before typing a reply, but she added another message first.
Britta: Can I ask you a personal question?
Wes: Sure.
Britta: It’s really personal, so you don’t have to answer.
Wes: Hit me.
The dots bounced and then stopped, her message hanging. My comfortable bedroom was now too warm, and I stared at my phone with an intensity that would have been embarrassing if anyone else was in the room.
Wes: Everything ok?
When she finally responded after another two minutes, what she said threw me.
Britta: Have you ever wanted someone you knew you shouldn’t?
Her question was so spot-on, I worried she’d seen through me at the park. Maybe she’d known exactly why I pulled back.
Wes: What do you mean?
Britta: Have you ever wanted to be with someone, like, romantically, but it would be inappropriate? Like, someone off-limits.