Page 10 of Ruled Out

“Wait, what?” I ask in confusion.

“I’m taking you to get food, Phoebe. You need calories, and a lot of them. You have to eat, particularly with how much you’ll be training.” He takes a deep breath before saying something I never would have imagined coming from his mouth.

“It killed me seeing you like that today.”

Did he really just say that?I was almost positive he rejoiced in witnessing me succumb to his torture.

“Don’t worry, there’s a drive-thru. I know you would rather starve than have dinner with me,” he adds. Of course, he had to ruin the first nice thing he said by following it up with a sarcastic comment.

Twenty minutes later, we pull up to my apartment building, the inside of his Jeep smelling like a grease bomb. The drive here was mostly silent. I think Coach could sense that I’m not in the mood for small talk or banter. I grab the to-go bag with my burger and fries in one hand and open the passenger door with the other. I slide out of my seat and attempt to shut the passenger door with my hip. Before it completely closes, I turn to him as a question works its way to the tip of my tongue.

“Why?” I ask him, halting my movement.Curiosity killed the cat, Phoebe…

“Why what?” he responds, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“This.” I gesture to my food and his Jeep. “Why didn’t you just let Maisie drive me home?”

He looks at me with a sympathetic glance. It’s almost like a little bit of that ice man façade melts as he answers. “Because I needed to make sure you were okay. I don’t think I could sleep tonight not knowing if you ate. Please, Phoebe. Promise me you’ll eat and get some rest once you’re inside.”

“I promise,” I reply, my words barely a whisper.Who is this man and what did he do with my asshole of a coach?“Thank you,” I add before shutting the door.

“Phoebe, wait,” he calls out, rolling down the passenger window. “Don’t forget your Coke,” he adds with a soft smile, handing me my drink through the window.

His fingers lightly brush against mine as he passes me the styrofoam cup, his touch sending a wave of heat straight to my core.Does he feel it too?Terrified of what I’m starting to feel, I pull away and turn in the direction of my apartment without saying a word.

Hours later, I lay in bed, reading a few chapters from a smutty romance novel I picked up at the local bookstore. After I ate my meal and took a warm shower, I curled up in bed, feeling like I might actually get a good night's sleep. Once my eyelids grow heavy, I shut my book and set it on the nightstand. Just as I reach over to turn out the bedside lamp, my phone dings with a text from an unknown number.Who would be messaging me at this hour?I tap on the notification and read the text.

Unknown: How are you feeling?

My jaw drops; I’m certain I know who the text is from. In all reality, though, it could be anyone who saw me faint today.

Me: I’m sorry, I don’t have this number saved. Who is this?

Unknown: Knox

Knox? Before I have a chance to think, bubbles appear, indicating ‘Knox’ is typing back rapidly.

Unknown: Coach Moore, sorry. Habit.

Oh shit. Coach just accidently told me his first name. I’m totally saving his contact in my phone as Knox just to piss him off.

Knox Moore. Dammit, why is even hisnamehot?

Me: So, we’re on a first name basis now? Can I start calling you obKNOXious when you piss me off?

Knox: Very original. Never heard that one before.

He adds an eye roll emoji at the end of the text. I’m trying to think of a clever response when another message comes through.

Knox: How was your food? Best burger in town, in my opinion.

Me: It was divine. I was thinking, you can’t make me run tomorrow after forcing a burger down my throat lol

Knox: Wasn’t planning on it.

Bubbles appear immediately after his last text, letting me know he’s still typing.

Knox: Phoebe… I don’t know why I didn't say this earlier, but I have to apologize for how I reacted yesterday. I realize it wasn't your fault you were late. Even after how I treated you, you showed up today and worked your ass off. You pushed yourself harder than anyone I’ve ever coached. I hate that I’m the reason you drove yourself past the point of exhaustion. I’m starting to realize that you're just as stubborn as I am.

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