Page 86 of The Backup

“Hey, Asher,” I say, my voice low, drawing attention away from Griffin and Avery. I glance up, meeting his gaze. I lean in close, his breath warm against my ear. “Is there something going on between Avery and Griffin?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Those two? No way. They hate each other. Always have, since high school. Plus, I’m pretty sure Cassie would kill Griffin if that were true. Like he’d be dead.”

I pause, thinking about the way they interacted, but Asher’s casual assurance makes me smile. “Guess I’ve got to take your word for it.”

As we follow the host inside, I can’t shake the feeling that something is off. Maybe it’s the way Griffin and Avery keep sneaking glances at each other when they think no one is looking. Griffin is undeniably charming and handsome.

But would hereallyget with his sister’s best friend?

I try to shrug it off. Probably nothing. Or maybe it’s everything.

Dinner is winding down, the plates cleared, and the conversation flows more easily now that we’re onto dessert and a few drinks deep. The restaurant’s soft lighting casts a cozy glow over the table, and I’ve been trying to ignore the undercurrent of tension that’s been building between Griffin and Avery all evening.

Griffin, in his usual charming way, takes a bite of his dessert—some rich chocolate cake—and leans back in his chair, looking over at Asher. "Congrats on being the starter this year, man," he says, his voice genuine but laced with that competitive edge I’m starting to recognize. "You’re killing it out there."

Asher shrugs nonchalantly, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Thanks. But it’s just another game."

I catch the brief flicker of something in his eyes. He doesn’t seem that invested in the praise—more like it’s just part of the job to him. He’s always been so humble about his career, but I know how much it means to him.

Griffin presses on, clearly enjoying the moment. "Still, man. You’ve worked your ass off to get there. You’re not just some backup anymore." He’s teasing, but there’s a hint of pride behind his words.

Asher rolls his eyes, trying to brush it off. "Yeah, yeah. Still not sure how I ended up here. Maybe I should’ve tried to become a coach instead."

At that, I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "Coaching?" I ask, my voice light but curious. "You want to go into coaching?"

Asher leans back in his seat, the confident way he holds himself making my heart skip a beat. He’s always been so effortlessly cool, so comfortable in his own skin. And right now, with his hand resting on the edge of the table, the thought of him as a coach hits me in a way I wasn’t expecting.

I picture it—Asher standing in front of a team, calm but firm, giving instructions, knowing exactly what to do and how to get the best out of his players. The thought of him in that role, leading and commanding attention, sends a wave of heat rushing through me. My breath hitches slightly.

"Maybe. I mean, I don’t know. I’m not in any rush to get out of the game yet, but...yeah. Coaching could be a good fit for me eventually. You know, helping guys who actually listen to me."

Cassie’s loud laugh pulls me out of my thoughts, but not before I catch the shift in my body. There's something in his tone, in the way he casually talks about it, that makes me imagine him commanding a room, eyes sharp, focused—so different from the easygoing way he’s sitting now.

"You mean, you’d actually talk to your players?" Cassie teases, her voice ringing in the air.

I glance at Asher, and there’s a glint of mischief in his eyes, but I can’t stop my mind from drifting back to the picture I’ve conjured of him—on the sidelines, leading his team, every word carrying weight. It's incredibly hot. I can practically see it now, hear his voice giving those firm orders.

Without thinking, my hand slides under the table, a sudden, almost unconscious movement. It rests gently on his leg, just above his knee. I feel his muscles tense beneath my touch, the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his jeans.

Asher’s gaze flickers over to me, his eyes darkening slightly, as if he knows exactly what’s happening. He doesn’t say anything at first, but his hand shifts under the table, gently closing over mine. A simple, silent acknowledgment of what’s going on.

"Everything okay, Sloane?" he asks, his voice lower now, the teasing edge replaced with something more serious.

I swallow, fighting to keep my composure. "Yeah," I reply, my voice a little tighter than I intended. "Just...thinking."

He smirks, the corner of his mouth curling up. “Thinking about what?”

I can’t help but smirk back, trying to play it cool even though my pulse is racing. “You as a coach. I think you’d do great at it.”

He leans in slightly, his thumb brushing over my hand in a way that sends a jolt of electricity through me. “Oh yeah? You like that idea?”

I bite my lip, trying to ignore the heat building between us. “Yeah,” I say softly. “I think I do.”

Cassie grins. “I know you guys aren’t like officially a ‘couple’ or whatever, but I think you’re cute together. Jock and the nerd.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Asher grins. “I’m kind of a nerd too.”

“Right. A nerd who is going to coach football,” Avery adds with a teasing edge, making all of us laugh.

---