Page 137 of With the Assist

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Wesley

Iwake up warm. Nathan is behind me with his arm slung over my waist and his face tucked into the space between my shoulder blades. His breath is slow and even, brushing my skin every time he exhales.

It’s the kind of peaceful moment that makes you want to stay still so you don’t disturb it. I let myself settle into him, the blanket acting as a cocoon hiding us from the world.

For one dangerous, perfect second, I let myself believe this could last.

The room is quiet and peaceful. Our heartbeats are pounding in a synchronized rhythm. My muscles ache in the best way, and my mind is soft around the edges, still wrapped up in last night. We said and did things that went far past whatever our arrangement was meant to be. Today, we would have to figure out if we want to keep this going. I don’t know what the right answer is.

I almost close my eyes again.

Then the sunlight hits.

It’s bright, not the gentle gray light of early morning, but golden, slicing through a gap in the curtains and landing directly across the bed. My stomach drops before my brain catches up.

No.

I twist to see the bedside clock.

8:02 a.m.

The warmth evaporates instantly, replaced by pure, white-hot panic.

“Shit,” I gasp, already throwing the covers off myself.

Nathan stirs behind me, groaning softly. “Mmm… five more minutes,” he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep and affection, making my skin prickle even as I spiral.

“I’m late,” I choke out, scrambling off the bed.

My feet hit the carpet, and I nearly trip over myself, wrapping the sheet around my body as if modesty matters when my entire future is collapsing in on itself. My heart is in my throat.

Where is my phone?

I spin in place, scanning the room. Nothing.

“No, no, no,” I mutter, yanking on my underwear, then my dress, hopping on one foot as I shove each leg through the opening. My hands are shaking. “Where is it?”

“What?” Nathan asks, sitting up abruptly now. He blinks at me, still half asleep, a lazy smile pulling at his mouth when his eyes land on me. “Hey. Morning.”

I don’t return the smile.

That’s when he knows something is wrong.

“Wes?” He rubs a hand over his face, frowning. “What’s going on?”

“I was supposed to meet him,” I say, voice already climbing toward hysteria. “I was supposed to meet the head coach for the Futures Camp at seven for a one-on-one session. Seven.”

Nathan’s expression changes immediately, sleep burning off as reality snaps into place. “What time is it?” he asks, already swinging his legs out of bed.

“Eight.” I toss the pillows off the couch, my phone still missing.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah.” I shove my feet into my shoes without bothering to sit down. “I overslept. I missed it. I fucking missed it. How could I let this happen?”

“Okay. It’s okay.” He’s moving fast now. “We’ll figure it out.”