He shrugs. “Okay, well, we’ll invite him to something else. Movie night, maybe?”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Honestly, every scenario outside of things my dad would do ends with Tom looking uncomfortable and unimpressed.I can’t imagine him getting involved with my brothers while they throw popcorn at each other and laugh at fart jokes. Nor can I imagine him dressing up or washing cars for charity, or any of the stuff, silly or otherwise, that make up my life at the fraternity. All except the stuffy meetings and financial reports. But Greek life is about so much more than that.
I send Elias a message before we bump into him at practice. I don’t want him to be caught off guard.
Emergency!
I think we’ll have to build up this ‘relationship’ thing. Nate isn’t going to buy it.
I need you to start flirting with me.
Sorry.
My hands are sweaty as I slide my phone back in my pocket. I force myself not to look at it again until I’ve found a spot in the parking lot outside the cafeteria.
His message is blunt, as always. Straight to the point. Yet, my silly romantic heart reads it as a love poem.
I can do that.
While I’m grinning at the phone, another message comes through.
Stop apologizing.
Elias’ absence while I eat with the guys is welcome—I need time to recover from those messages and to prepare for the moment he starts flirting with me. But it’s also sad. Eliasis a part of this team. He should be here eating with us, getting to know everyone better.
I’m tinglingwith anxiety as we step into the locker room. Elias is already there, as always. Thankfully, he’s changed into his tennis clothes, so I don’t have to see him in any way undressed. God help me if I ever see that magnificent butt again.
The guys greet him as they come in.
Elias singles me out with a charming smile. “Hey, Ben.”
My cheeks flush already.Come on man, get a hold of yourself. He hasn’t even started flirting yet. Has he?
Every time I glance in his direction, he’s looking at me. Smiling. One time he winks. Was that part of the flirting? Or was it one of those covert spy things? Letting me know he’s got this.
We head outside. There’s mist hovering over the courts. Archer tries to bat it away with his racket. Someone laughs. I turn to find Elias standing right there beside me. My skin prickles. It’s not an unpleasant sensation.
“Ready, partner?”
“Yup.”
After our warmup and a few practice shots, Coach teams us up with Archer and Nate in preparation for the next match.
“This is our perfect opportunity to sell it,” Elias says.
Before I can ask any further questions, Nate’s getting ready to serve and Elias is already in position on our side of the court.
I quickly realize that Elias is good at this deception stuff. He’s putting on a show, but not overselling it. Whenever we lose a point, he’s tactile with me in a subtly comforting way.He rubs my arm. He pats my back. Tiny gestures most wouldn’t notice unless they were paying attention. He’s touching me the way a doubles partner would, but also going out of his way, like he just can’t keep his hands off me. It’s intoxicating. And I have to remind myself that it’s fake.
When we win a point, he ruffles my hair. He flashes me intimate smiles and maintains eye contact just a second too long. I take note of all these flirting techniques for future reference. This guy’s a genius. Being a hot, tall, German guy with natural magnetism and sex appeal can’t hurt either, I suppose.
After we win the first game, Elias puts his hand on my back as we walk to the baseline. When he leans his head close to mine I catch a whiff of his shampoo and body spray. It’s clean and fresh and powerfully masculine.
“Pretend I just said something really funny,” he says.
It takes me a moment to catch on before I laugh.
