“Hey,” I say, climbing into the passenger seat.
Ben tries to say hi back but his throat doesn’t seem to be working yet. He clears it before trying again, a blush spreading up his neck.
“You didn’t travel with the other frat boys?”
His eyes widen. “I told you, we don’t call each other ‘frat boys.’”
“Oh yeah, that’s right. You call each other brothers.”
Ben nods.
“That sounds like a cult. I’m not calling you that.”
“You don’t have to,” he mumbles, turning on his blinker and checking his blind spot.
He takes the same meticulous care in driving as he does playing tennis. I like that and it helps me relax.
“So, what are we going to tell Nate?”
“About what?”
“About the dating thing.”
“Oh.” The blush makes it all the way to his face. He takes one hand off the wheel to rub the back of his neck. I watch the road intensely for anything that might sabotage his driving until he puts both hands back on the wheel. I let out a breath.
“I think I’ll just go on a date with this Tom guy.”
My stomach drops. “What?”
He shrugs. “What’s the worst that could happen? And anyway, I probably need a little practice if I’m going to date. I’m a senior, for Pete’s sake.”
He’s never dated? And ‘for Pete’s sake?’ Holy fuck, he’s such a nerd.
“I suppose it is just a date,” I say.
“Exactly. And if it’s terrible, then lesson learned, right?”
His eyes meet mine in the mirror. All that fake cheerfulness shucking away to reveal the fear behind it.
“You have nothing to be worried about,” I say.
He forces a laugh. “I know that.” He takes the turn into the tennis center’s car park. “Anyway, who knows? This guy could end up being great.”
Something bubbles in my gut. Why don’t I like the sound of that? It’s none of my business who Ben dates. Maybe if he’s in love, he’ll be less competition for me in the future on the court? Just so long as he stays undistracted for our doubles match, he can do whatever he likes.
I should just stay quiet, but that would be too easy. “So, I’m guessing you don’t need to pretend to be dating me now.”
There he goes again, looking like he just swallowed his own tongue.
“Thanks for the offer, but … I don’t think Nate would believe it anyway.”
“What do you mean?” I frown. “Nate knows I’m gay.”
Those attractive blotches spread across his cheeks. Something gnaws at me until I’m forced to look away.
“I know. It’s just that … you’re out of my league.”
My heart soars. I push it down, try to remain professional. “Ben, you’re very attractive. Of course I’m not out of your league.”
