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“If you say so.” He rolled his eyes. “I can’t decide what it’s for, though. Are you pissed off at the thought of someone making a move on your baby sister, or is it because Charlie and Sophie seem to be into each other?”

“Wha— Why would I have a problem with any of that? They’re adults, and Charlie’s a good guy. I don’t have a problem with it. See?” Leaning forwards, I grabbed my phone from the coffee table and opened the message thread with my sister.

Soph:

Thanks for introducing me to Charlie today. He seems really nice *smile emoji*

Me:

He’s a good guy

Soph:

Is that you giving us your blessing?

Me:

Us???

Soph:

OK there’s no us yet, but I think he’s interested. Be a cool big brother pleeeeease

Me:

I always am

Soph:

I know. You’re the best, Nate. Love you

Me:

Love you too Soph

“Okay,” Jonas said eventually. “I’ll take your word for it. If you’re fine with all…that… you won’t mind giving my app one more go. Please?”

I groaned. “This had better be third time lucky, and I’m only agreeing because you’re probably my closest friend.”

“Probably. Wow,” he muttered sarcastically.

“Okay. Definitely. Whatever, you know you are.”

“Yeah.” He gave me a small smile. “Same to you. Probably.”

“Fuck off.” I elbowed him. “I’ll give the app another go, but only if you one hundred percent guarantee I won’t be matched with Charlie again. Or any other man, for that matter.”

“I promise,” he said.

7

Clicking the Save icon and exiting out of my assignment, I leaned back in my desk chair. I still had a few more training sessions left with the LSU team—depending on my work schedule—but the first one had given me a solid basis to compare with the sessions I’d attended with the hockey and rugby teams. Taking part in the actual training rather than being there as a spectator had given me a completely different perspective, though. For a start, I thought I was fit. I spent enough time at the gym, after all, but right now my muscles ached in places they’d never ached before.

Then there was the fact that instead of watching the players practise, I’d been watched by the spectators. And one of those spectators happened to be Sophie Glover, who had given me her number.

I hadn’t texted her yet. I should, though. I’d told her I would.

Reaching for my phone, I opened the group chat I had with a few of the guys from my course. There was a loose plan for a coffee-slash-study session after Tuesday’s anatomy and physiology lecture, so I tapped out a quick message to see if anyone minded me inviting a few extra people.

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