“Yeah, I slept in,” he replies.
My brow furrows. He never sleeps in. “Feeling alright?”
“That’s what I came to ask you.”
“What?”
“Yesterday.. I, uh… You said you were feeling sore?”
It takes me a minute to register what he’s referring to. My lips turn up on one side, because he’s just admitted he was creeping on my text conversation.
“West said you were icing last night.”
“It’s nothing serious.” I am a little sore, but it’s nothing bad enough to warrant more than some extra stretching. I iced it last night and used a heating pad for a few minutes before our workout this morning, but only out of precaution for the competition.
“I thought I’d check in and see if you needed any help.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You offering to rub me down, Coach?”
The joke falls off my lips before I can think about it too much. Wyatt rolls his eyes, but there’s a flicker of a smile that has myshoulders relaxing. Maybe we can recover some normalcy after all. I was worried I’d ruined everything. Even though I don’t really need his help, I’m grateful he’s here. I step aside to let him in.
“Don’t make it weird.”
Wyatt steps into the room and looks around. He looks awkward, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans and shuffling on his feet like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.If he could stop being so adorable, that’d be great.
“Weston’s in the tub,” I tell him, answering his unspoken question.
He nods. “So… did you pull a muscle, or what? I’ve got some muscle cream I could massage into it.”
“Yeah, about that. I’m good, really. And I don’t think you really want to help me with this anyway.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
I tilt my head, trying not to smirk. “Because of where it is.”
He blinks back at me, but his eyes fall down my torso.
“Mild adductor strain. Nothing serious, though. I promise.”
His eyes lock on my groin, and I clench reflexively. “You been putting heat on it?”
As long as you’re looking at me like that, I won’t need to. Damn.
I nod. “Used the heating pad this morning before the gym.”
“How’s your mobility?”
“Just as flexible as always, Coach. Wanna see?”What the fuck, Niles? Keep it up. I’m sure your stupid mouth is definitely helping the situation.
Wyatt’s eyes flick over to the bathroom door, which is just barely cracked open. I’m pretty sure Weston’s got earbuds in; I can hear him humming and swishing around in the water.
Wyatt’s eyes fall back on me, and he swallows. “Yeah— I should probably, um, take a look.”
Really?
“You sure?”
He hesitates, then nods.