I like to torture myself. As in, I enjoy watching the football team practice after school. I’m on the volleyball team and our practice ends an hour before their practice does, so I hightail it to the field and collapse on a bench at the top of the bleachers, playing it cool for the rest of the hour while I spy on Beck Callahan as much as possible.

Pathetic right? He’s just my friend. We’ve known each other forever. At one point I wondered if we could’ve had a little something going on in middle school, but that faded.

Fast.

Now he’s an excellent football player, mowing everyone down who dares cross his path. He’s a joy to watch on the field, and I love football. Like, I really do.

Okay fine, I also enjoy watching Beck on the field more than anyone else out there, but whatever. I’m not going to allow myself to feel any guilt over it.

It’s my little secret, that I sit up here and watch the team—him, my bae —play. I don’t tell my friends what I do. Not even Emma, and she’s on the volleyball team with me. She’s always quick to leave right after our practice lately though, only because she’s desperately trying to avoid the football team.

Her boyfriend Marcus broke up with her last week.

Emma is taking it really hard. She’s playing sad songs nonstop on her phone and won’t stop crying over him. And when she’s not crying over Marcus, she’s raging about him. Talking about how much she hates him, only for her to turn around and sob and wail over how much she loves him.

It’s kind of difficult to deal with, if I’m being honest. I don’t know what to say to her anymore. And worse, I’ve never had my heart broken before, so when I try to give her advice, she always throws that little fact in my face. As if I’m not qualified to help her because I haven’t dealt with heartache?

Whatever.

So I spend an hour watching Beck practice with the rest of the team, so what? He is my bae, my secret crush, and I enjoy these stolen moments while I can. The only reason I wait around after school is because my mom picks me up after work. And yes, I still don’t have my license because I’m lazy, and I just haven’t gotten around to taking the driving test yet. I have my permit. I even have a car—my parents bought it for me over the summer.

Again, lazy on my part. And maybe, dare I think it, a little afraid to grow up?

Maybe.

The shrill whistle blowing catches my attention and I return my gaze to the field, watching Beck jog across the grass. Lately he’s always wearing these cropped T-shirts that show off his abs during practice, and it’s distracting. He has really great abs. Flat and ridged with muscle. Broad shoulders. Wide chest. Toned legs. Thick thighs. He’s a big boy. He’d probably smother me if he ever rolled on top of me…

My face heats at the thought. I wouldn’t mind Beck rolling on top of me. Holding me. Kissing me…

I prop my feet on the bench in front of me and lean back, watching him unabashedly. No one is paying attention to me anyway. The cross-country team is at a meet today, so they’re not out running around like usual. The cheer team is in the gym—they barged in there as soon as we were finished with practice, eager to mark their spots or whatever they need to do for the pep rally tomorrow.

Anyone left out here doesn’t notice me or doesn’t care. The only ones remaining on the track are people who live nearby and a couple of teachers out getting their daily exercise. There are little kids riding bikes on the sidewalks that surround the bleachers, and they’re kind of annoying, but I ignore them.

My gaze is on Beck and no one else.

The coaches call for a break and Beck jogs to the side of the field, grabbing his water bottle and drinking from it with his head tipped back. A sigh escapes me as I watch his throat move every time he swallows. I have serious problems, if watching someone drink leaves me vaguely uncomfortable and a little flushed.

Like, serious.

Once he’s done chugging water, he glances around, his attention on the stands. I curl into myself, suddenly wishing I could disappear. Not once has he noticed me up here and I’ve been doing this for weeks. He’ll see me sometimes when I’m leaving, offering a wave or one of those chin nods that boys are always prone to do.

Right now, though? He’s looking straight at me, those beautiful blue eyes on me and no one else.

I stare back, caught. A little embarrassed. His lips tip up at the corners in a small smile and I wave at him, smiling in return. He waves too, just before he cups his hands around his mouth and yells, “Don’t leave, Douglas! I need to talk to you after practice!”

Oh. Shit.

Everyone on the football team swivels their heads in my direction, studying me with curiosity. My face is hot. I think my entire body is hot.

God, that was so embarrassing. But also…

Thrilling. Because Beck Callahan wants to talk to me. And yes, we chat in history almost every day. We are constantly doing group projects in that class and we’ve even been in a few groups together, too. But it’s nothing.

Nothing.

He’s been seen around campus with Sasha Rodriguez more and more. She wore his jersey to school last Friday, on game day. If that isn’t confirmation that they have a thing going on, then I don’t know what else is.

This is a friendly talk between Beck and me. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.

When practice is over, Beck doesn’t head back to the locker room with the rest of the team. I watch him talk to his dad before he makes his way toward me, directly in line with where I’ll be coming down the stands. I practically skip down the steps, nearly faceplanting at one point, so I tell myself to slow down. I don’t need to hurt myself as I make my approach.

Geez, I am such a klutz sometimes.

“Addie, hey,” he says when our gazes catch and we’re in talking distance. “What are you doing?”

“Hanging out, waiting for my mom to come get me,” I answer, stopping on the other side of the fence that separates the track and field from the bleachers.

Beck frowns. “Don’t you drive yet?”

My cheeks go warm. You’d think I’d get used to the embarrassment I always inevitably feel when I’m talking to Beck, but I guess not. “Not yet. I still need to take my driver’s test.”

He smiles. “You need to get on that. Driving equals freedom. There’s nothing else like it.”

I know he’s right. And I also know that isn’t why he wants to talk to me. “What’s up, Beck?”

“Oh, I was hoping I could get your help with something.” He kicks at the edge of the chain-link fence in between us, making the entire panel rattle. “I uh, want to buy Sasha something. A gift.”

I frown, wondering what this has to do with me. “Okay.”

“And I was hoping you’d come with me and help me pick it out.” His blue eyes land on mine and I can’t look away, even though I should. I should tell him to get the hell out of here. I’m not going to help him buy his new girlfriend a freaking gift. How sucky is that?

Instead, I can feel my mouth open. I can hear the words I say, and I immediately want to take them back. “Where are you thinking of going to find her a gift?”

“Uh, there’s that store over by the nail salon you all go to?” Yes, most of the girls who go to my high school all frequent the same nail salon that’s not too far from campus. “I think it’s called Urban Roots?”

“Ah, that store is a great choice.” They have all kinds of cute stuff in there. Clothes, candles, jewelry, knickknacks. “What are you wanting to get her?”

And why, I want to ask so badly. But it’s none of my business.

“I’m not sure. Nothing too expensive. Our relationship is still early days yet,” he says, dipping his head down, his hair falling into his eyes. When he lifts it back up, he swipes his hair out of his face, his biceps bulging with the movement. I can only watch him in mute fascination, completely enthralled with every little thing he does. “It’s her birthday this weekend, and I wanted to find her a little something.”

“Ah, that’s nice,” I say, my tone super fake. I clear my throat, trying for genuine. “But it’s already Wednesday, Beck. When did you want to shop for her?”

“Tomorrow? After practice?” His expression turns earnest. “Do you mind? Though shit, we have our team dinner tomorrow night.” He frowns. “That won’t work.”

“When’s her birthday?”

“She’s having a party Saturday night. Are you coming?” When I shake my head, he actually looks disappointed. “I thought you would.”

“We’re not really friends.” We’re friendly, but not, come to my birthday party , friendly. She’s a year older than us, and while we’re in leadership together, I don’t really talk to her that much. She’s pretty much untouchable, which I can’t even explain but…yeah.

Sasha Rodriguez is the girl that can do no wrong. She’s beautiful, she’s smart, she’s so freakin’ nice. Everyone loves her. Students, staff, everyone. And while I don’t think I’m a big loser or anything like that, I’m just…there. Nothing special, especially compared to Sasha.

“Oh, I thought you two were friends, considering you’re in leadership together and all that.” Beck glances toward the horizon, squinting into the waning sun. “Maybe we could get together Saturday afternoon then? Unless you have plans.”

I should say I have plans. I don’t want to spend my Saturday buying a birthday gift for Beck’s new girlfriend. But I’m the idiot who said I would help him so…

“I don’t have plans,” I answer with a weak smile.

“Really? You don’t mind helping me?” When I shake my head, he hits me with one of those spectacular Callahan grins, and I’m done for. Thank God I’m holding onto the fence in between us, because my legs just turned to jelly. “I can come pick you up.”

“Oh, you don’t have—”

“You don’t drive, and I don’t mind. Say around one?” I nod, and that grin stays firmly in place. “It’s a date then. See you Saturday.”

I watch him run across the field, my gaze falling to his butt—it’s fantastic, of course it is—my heart racing at the words he just said.

It’s a date. It’s a date. It’s a date.

No, it’s really not. It’s just two friends getting together, so I can help him find a present for the most beautiful girl at our high school.

Definitely not a date.

* * *

He shows up promptly at one Saturday afternoon, and thank God, my family is gone. I’m the only one home, so I take a few extra seconds to answer the door after I hear him knock, not wanting to seem too eager.

It took me an hour to find the perfect outfit to wear, and I’m not normally this high-maintenance. I usually just throw on clothes and go. But this is what Beck does to me. He makes me high-maintenance. He makes me lose my dang mind.

When I throw open the door, he’s standing there looking as adorable as ever in jeans and a navy Badger sweatshirt. He’s also wearing a white baseball cap backwards, his dark hair curling around the edges.

Ugh, it’s such a good look on him. I can barely stand it.

“Hi,” I greet him, walking out onto the porch and pulling the door shut behind me. “You ready?”

Beck scans me from head to toe. “You look great, Addie.”

“Oh, this?” I glance down at myself, feigning casual. I’m wearing a cropped black sweatshirt and faded high-waisted mom jeans. White Nikes on my feet complete the look. I thought about wearing my Doc Marten’s but that would probably be going overboard. I do feel good in this though. The jeans accentuate my long legs. “Thanks.”

His gaze is appreciative when it lands on mine. “You ready to go?”

Nodding, I turn to the door, quickly lock it, and then walk alongside Beck toward his car, silently noting how tall he is. I’m a tall girl, almost five-eight, but Beck towers over me, making me feel small.

I kind of like it.

We head for the store and make small talk, chatting about last night’s game, which they won—barely. We’re having such great conversation, the fifteen-minute drive goes by in a flash and next thing I know, we’re pulling into the parking lot of the shopping center where Urban Roots is.

“That was fast,” I say once Beck cuts the engine.

He glances over at me, his open, warm expression making me glad I said yes to this, even though we’re shopping for another girl. “You’re easy to talk to, Addison. You always have been.”

“We’ve known each other a long time,” I remind him. “And you busted out the full name.” When he frowns, I continue, “You always call me Addie.”

Beck chuckles. “Addison. Addie. I like both.”

He needs to stop saying things like that. He’s totally giving me the wrong idea. “Let’s go find something for Sasha.”

“Right,” he says firmly as he opens the driver’s side door.

We walk together to the store, and like a gentleman, he opens the door for me. The moment we walk in, the delicious scent hits me. There’s a candle burning on a display table, and it smells freaking amazing. I go to the table first thing, picking up one of the unlit candles and inhaling its fragrant, floral scent.

“I love this,” I murmur, flipping the candle upside down to check the price.

Thirty-four dollars. Dayum.

Beck comes over, so he’s standing directly behind me, his warmth radiating. He’s like a furnace. “Girls like candles.”

“We do.” I set the candle back, not really wanting Sasha to get it. I’d rather be the one who gets it, but I don’t know if I can spend that much on a candle for myself. I’ll just grab a couple at Bath and Body Works the next time they go on sale. “But let’s look around first and see your options. They’ve got a lot of stuff here.”

We wander through the store, Beck standing out, since he’s the only guy in here. And he’s tall and broad and handsome, so all the females, young and old, are checking him out. I can totally see why.

He’s so freaking attractive. Plus, there’s something about him that’s so friendly and approachable. He’s downright magnetic with that easy smile and the way he looks at others. As if they matter. People flock to him without him having to do a thing or say a word.

“Young man, you’re on the Badger football team, right?” an older woman asks as we try to move past her in a crowded corner of the store.

“Yes, ma’am,” he tells her with a devastating smile.

“Thought I recognized you. Keep it up, Callahan.” She pats his arm as she lets us walk by, lifting her eyebrows at me as we make eye contact. I’m sure she thinks I’m a lucky girl to be with him.

But I’m not really with him. I’m just his friend. Nothing to get too excited about.

“You’re like a local celebrity,” I tease him once she’s out of hearing distance.

He rolls his eyes. “Give me a break.”

We look over the jewelry, and while Beck likes some of it, he’s afraid jewelry is “too serious.”

“It’s not like we’re officially together yet,” he says with a one shoulder shrug.

“Really?” I try not to sound too interested, but I’m dying for more details.

“I like Sasha. We hang out a lot, and we have fun. I think she wants something more, but I don’t know.” His gaze finds mine and we stare at each other from across the display table laden with all kinds of jewelry. “She’s leaving next year.”

“Yeah, she is.” I set down the cute necklace I thought he could get her. It didn’t scream, we’re in a committed relationship, but I’m respecting his wishes. “Are you wanting something really serious?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs again, both shoulders this time. “Like, it’s not always easy, making conversation with her. She wants to talk about…very surface stuff.”

“Is she shallow?”

“Not really. It’s hard to explain.” He walks over to a display case and picks up a black knit winter hat with a brown faux fur ball on top of it. “She’d like something like this. She snowboards every winter.”

“So do I,” I say as I hold my hand out. He passes the hat to me, no questions asked, and I examine it thoroughly. “This is actually really cute. Super soft.”

“You still snowboard?” he asks me.

I glance up to find him watching me. “Yes. Don’t you still?”

He nods. “I do.”

“We used to go up to Badger Pass together in middle school,” I remind him.

The elementary schools in our district have a ski program during the winter season where they bus kids up to the local slopes every Friday. I lived for those snow days when we were younger.

“Yeah, you’re right. But you were always with your friends.”

“And you were always with your friends,” I remind him as I hand the hat back to him. “I think she’d like that.”

“Would you like it?” he asks, his gaze boring into mine. As if he’s genuinely wanting to know.

“Sure,” I say, keeping my voice light. “Though if I want anything out of this store right now, it’s that candle.”

“Gotcha.” He nods. “I think I’m going to buy the hat for her. It’s nice without being too much, you know?”

“Do it,” I encourage with a smile.

I refuse to go with him while he pays for a gift for another girl, so I continue looking around the store, thumbing through the clothes racks. They have a lot of cute stuff. I need to come back here and shop for myself. Maybe show my mom a few items she could possibly get me for Christmas. She always likes shop local, especially during the holidays.

The store employee bags up Beck’s purchase and that’s when I make my way over to him. “Ready to go?”

“Yep.” He smiles at the girl working the register, who’s gawking at him. “Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome,” she breathes, her eyes wide. “Have a great afternoon!”

We exit the store and walk side by side toward his car, Beck quiet the entire way, and I am too. We climb into the car, and he glances over at me once he shuts the door, his finger hovering over the button to start the engine. “You hungry?”

“Oh, uh—no.” I wince, feeling dumb. “I already ate lunch.”

“Ah. I thought maybe you’d want to go get something.” He starts the car and puts it in reverse. “Headed back home then?”

I nod, remaining quiet. He is sending such mixed signals. He’s treating this afternoon like an actual date, when it’s a shopping excursion for the real girl he’s dating. I’m so confused. And getting my hopes up.

I am just a friend to Beck. I need to remember that.

That’s it.

Our conversation isn’t as easy on the drive back to my house, and I can’t help but think that it’s partially my fault. I should’ve agreed to get something to eat with him, but what if someone saw us together and reported back to Sasha? Then what? I’m not a man stealer. Yes, I’m interested in Beck—who isn’t—but he is truly my friend. I would never try and take him from Sasha.

Besides, he’s not interested in me. He’s interested in her.

He pulls his car into my driveway and puts it in park before he turns to look at me. “Thanks again for coming with me.”

“I hope I was a help,” I tell him with a faint smile.

“You were a huge help.” His expression is so serious, so solemn. Not like the usual Beck at all. “I was going to buy you a coffee or whatever for taking the time to do this, but you didn’t let me.”

Yes, because I’m an idiot, is how I want to answer, but I don’t. “It’s okay. I didn’t need a coffee anyway.”

We stare at each other, the tension mounting between us, which again, is so confusing. I don’t get what’s happening between us.

“I should go,” I murmur, reaching for the door handle. He doesn’t stop me or say a word, so I open the door and practically jump out of the car, heading for my front door when I hear Beck call my name.

I glance over my shoulder to see him walking briskly toward me, his hand behind his back, as if he’s hiding something.

“I almost forgot,” he says, revealing what was behind his back with a flourish. “A thank-you gift for your assistance.”

It’s the candle I wanted. I stare at it in disbelief, not taking it from him yet, then I lift my gaze to his. “When did you buy this?”

“When I bought the hat for Sasha. You weren’t around, so I snuck it in.” His expression is bashful as he holds the candle closer to me. “Go on, take it. I know you love it.”

“I did. I do. You didn’t have to buy this for me.” I take the candle from him and bring it up to my nose, taking a deep whiff. “I love it. Thank you.”

His eyes are practically glowing as he continues to study me. “I’m glad you love it. Thanks again, Addie. I’ll see you around.”

Beck turns and walks away from me, and I watch him the entire time, clutching the candle to my chest like a little girl holding her favorite toy. He gets into his car, starts the engine and pulls out of the drive, offering me a little wave before he’s gone.

What in the world is Beck Callahan doing? My candle cost more than the hat. Like, way more.

What does that even mean?