Page 16 of Chasing The Goal
I collapsed onto the couch and let my head fall back. “I am absolutely dying inside.”
Logan chuckled, settling next to Ava and throwing an arm around her shoulders. “Good. Use it. Channel the rage.”
“Real helpful,” I muttered, but I couldn’t help smiling.
They were disgustingly good together—like two puzzle pieces that had finally stopped pretending they didn’t fit. I’d never admit it out loud, but being around them made everything feel... quieter. Calmer. SNL started, and we heckled the cold open like we always did, me throwing out dad jokes, Logan pretending to be above it all while still snorting at every sketch, Ava quoting punchlines before they even landed.
Somewhere between Weekend Update and a painfully awkward sketch involving a talking fridge, Ava nudged me with her foot.
“So?” she said.
I blinked. “So... what?”
She tilted her head, sly. “You’ve been weirdly quiet for the last half hour.”
“Pretty sure I’ve been crushing it with my one-liners.”
“Not the same. You’ve got that look.”
“What look?”
Logan chimed in. “The 'Jaymie wants to ask someone out and is overthinking it to death' look.”
I rolled my eyes. “There is no such look.”
“There is,” Ava said, sitting up straighter. “And you’re wearing it like it’s custom tailored.”
I paused, glanced between them, and sighed.
“It’s Mallory,” I said finally.
Ava’s eyebrows shot up. “The hot trainer?”
“She’s more than hot,” I said quickly. “She’s... sharp. Funny. Gives me shit constantly. It’s kind of awesome.”
Logan smirked, “You like being bullied. Noted.”
“I like her,” I said, trying not to sound defensive.
Ava leaned in, her face lighting up like she’d just discovered a new favorite rom-com. “Jaymie Prescott has a crush.”
“Stop.”
“Oh my God,” she whispered theatrically. “He’s blushing.”
“I’m not.”
Logan just sat there, smug and amused. “You gonna ask her out or keep flirting with resistance bands?”
“I want to,” I admitted. “But I don’t know. It’s tricky. She’s technically working with me. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.”
Ava sobered a little at that. “That’s fair. But... she seems like the kind of woman who’d let you know if she wasn’t interested.”
“She told me ‘next time’ when I invited her over for dinner,” I said. “In the elevator. After she accused me of stalking her.”
Ava grinned. “Bold move.”
“She was teasing. I think.”
