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“Please?”

She shakes her head but does as I say, opening the door Blake has already closed.

Blake scoots to the other side, and I guide Isla in. Once she’s buckled up, I close the door and climb behind the steering wheel. I start the engine and then reach back to place my right hand on her knee.

The laughter that erupts in my car doesn’t bother me in the slightest.

I’m obsessed with her, have been for years. I don’t mind the world knowing it.

We’re seated at a corner table, and this section of the restaurant is quiet, just like I requested. Tomorrow, I’ll celebrate with the team after the game. Then, I’ll drive home to spend time with my family. Tonight, I wanted to keep the gathering small, just me and my favorite people. Blake isn’t exactly my friend, but she and Isla are close, and I wanted Isla to feel comfortable.

My girl sits next to me, her right leg dangling over my left, my hand resting on her knee. Asher saw me maneuvering her into this position and only shook his head, grinning. There’s no judgment there, only happiness and a need to give me shit. That’s okay. I don’t even try to hide how I’m looking at her. I don’t want to.

We haven’t hidden our relationship at all, and it seems everyone on campus knows. I overheard one of the guys on the team whispering about how Isla isn’t my usual type, and it took all my restraint to keep my mouth shut. She’s been my type for years. No one else could fit the criteria. I avoided fooling around with any girl who had even the slightest resemblance, knowing it would’ve felt like betrayal. She’s the only brunette with deep blue eyes, plump lips, and a body to die for that I want.

The server brings out our food, and as we dig in, jokes come easy, and the conversation flows. My mood couldn’t be better, making it easy to smile and talk freely. All because of her. I swear, Isla looks at me like I’m her whole world. Her soft smile hits me in the chest every damn time, and I almost forget how to breathe.

The effect she has on me needs to be studied. It’s like she’s bewitched me, put me under her spell to ensure I’ll only ever look at her.

“You know what’s funny?” Blake asks, picking up her drink. “My sister said people on campus keep joking, asking if Michael’s got what it takes to be an Olympian’s boyfriend.” She snorts.

My body goes rigid. I don’t mind being known as Isla’s boyfriend. I’m proud to be with her because she’s incredible. I just don’t know if I’m good enough to be with her.

Before I can come up with any type of response, Blake goes on, oblivious to the blow she just delivered.

“Like first you had to live up to your dad, and now, you’ve gotta live up to her too.”

I clear my throat. “I hope I can.”

Asher is frozen with his fork halfway to his mouth, his brows drawn together. My expression must be similar, because Blake surveys me, and then her mouth drops open.

“Oh my God, Michael, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it… I didn’t want to hurt you or anything. I just mentioned it because I think they’re all idiots.”

Her words are earnest. She didn’t make that comment to hurt me. But she said it, and now, it’s there, hanging in the air, heavy and sticky.

I wiggle, my collar too tight, my chair uncomfortable.

Isla turns to me, frowning. She understands. Maybe she can even feel the shift inside me.

Not wanting her to be upset, I force a smile and survey the three of them. “It’s fine. People love to say stupid shit.”

It’s not fine.

I’ve spent my whole life living in the shadow of my dad’s legacy, and now, people are wondering if I measure up to Isla.

I’ve never been just me. Never “Michael Thompson, a talented player with a bright future.” Always someone who has to prove he’s good enough to stand next to the people he loves.

I fucking hate it.

Dinner goes on, the three of them talking and laughing. I join in when I can, acting as if nothing happened. I answer, I smile. I act unbothered, but there’s this iceberg in my chest that won’t melt. Beneath the table, Isla holds my hand and squeezes every so often, as if she can see what’s going on in my head.

After dinner, I hold the door open for Isla. The moment she steps outside, she shivers, pulling her jacket tighter.

In two quick strides, I catch up with her, leaving Asher and Blake behind to bicker the way they have been since the moment they started talking basketball.

I take Isla’s hand, noticing the slightest wince on her face.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, loosening my grip, worried I’ve hurt her.