Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
“Okay,” I say.
“And don’t stick your toe pick in Garcia’s eye,” she adds. “He can’t take the bait if he’s in the E.R.”
I smile. “Yes, ma’am. See you in class.”
“You sure will.” She smiles, a soft, sleepy curl of her lips that makes my heart squeeze. “I have something special planned. We’re going to do chest openers. Get you all ready to start next week with open hearts and more room for your lungs. Between yoga and making you fuck me like a freight train, I’m going to elevate your cardio game so hard baby.”
I laugh, Mr. Sniffles farts, and just like that Steph and I are both up and out of bed, cursing the pug and his habit of eating anything gross that isn’t nailed down. Last night, it was a rancid-looking buffalo wing he spotted on the ground in the park and pounced on before we could intervene.
In the shower, she stands behind me, working shampoo through my hair with strong, nimble fingers that make me groan. “Trying to put me back to sleep, Teach?”
“Just helping you relax,” she says. “You need to stay loose today. Just focus on your game. Let the rest of us worry about tonight.”
“That’s not how I’m wired, unfortunately.” I’ve been worried about the plan pretty much non-stop since I gave the go ahead on Tuesday. The fact that I’m out of the loop is making me more anxious than if I were the mastermind.
But then, I’m no stranger to control issues…
“I know,” Steph says, pressing a kiss between my shoulder blades. “But I also know that people can change. And you’ve already changed a lot.”
She’s right. A few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have just been “worried” about giving up control, I would have been climbing the fucking walls, tearing out my own hair, giving myself an ulcer. But now, I’m letting Stone and Justin take most of the weight. Not because I’m lazy or don’t care, but because I trust that they have my back and this is the best thing for everyone.
I’m starting to understand that being able to release control sometimes isn’t weakness. It’s strength.
By the time we’re dressed, I take Mr. Sniffles out to purge his ass demons, and Steph has forced one of her green power smoothies down my throat—“It has turmeric. It’s anti-inflammatory!”—I’m feeling as close to good as I can with today’s double-header of challenges ahead.
“Text me updates,” Steph says as I gather my gear. “And remember, you’re just another player having a normal day at camp.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I lean down for a kiss, lingering a bit longer than I should, but unable to help myself. “See you at class, then at Stone’s tonight. Six o’clock.”
“Six o’clock,” she confirms. “You’re going to be great.”
“Love you,” I tell her, the words still new enough that they feel precious each time I say them.
Her face softens. “I love you too, Grunty. Now go show ‘em what you’ve got.”
Camp is grueling, as usual, but with one notable difference: Lauder seems to be watching me more closely. His eyes track my movements during drills with an intensity that’s both unnerving and oddly encouraging.
Maybe Stone was right; maybe my consistent performance is starting to cut through the bullshit Garcia’s been feeding everyone.
Garcia himself is unusually subdued—whether from nerves about tonight’s meeting with “Dan the Big Bad Drug Dealer” or just fatigue from a long week, I can’t tell. But he’s keeping his distance, which is fine by me. The less I have to interact with him, the less likely I am to tip our hand.
During our short lunch break, Stone slides onto the seat next to me in the cafeteria, his voice low.
“Everything’s set,” he murmurs, poking at his chicken and veggies. “Cruise set up the cameras this morning, Dan’s good to go, and I will see you and your lady tonight for a live showing of ‘Catch a Back Stabber.’ I’m making popcorn, and I have plenty of beer and cider, but bring anything else you want to eat. I’m bad at stocking my fridge.”
I nod, taking a bite of my own food even though my stomach is in knots. “Any chance Garcia is planning on backing out?”
“Nah, Justin heard from his source in the junior coaching staff that Hartley had a closed-door meeting with Garcia and Lauder this morning.”
“About what?”
Stone shrugs. “No idea, but Garcia came out looking way too smug for it to be anything but bad for you.”
“Great,” I mutter.
He gives my shoulder a friendly punch. “Hey, today your luck is bad. But tomorrow, we turn the tables.”
“If it works.”
“It’ll work,” Stone says, his confidence seemingly unshakeable. “And even if something does go wrong, we’ve got backups to our backups. Trust the process, man.”
Easy for him to say. His career doesn’t hang in the balance.
But I nod, keeping my doubts to myself as I force down another bite.