Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
“Do we really have to talk about this?”
He chuckles. “No, I guess we don’t.”
“Good.”
“I’m going to, though, just a little bit more.”
“Quinn—”
“All I’m going to say is to give it a chance.” He holds up both hands in the air. “Don’t shut shit down just because you think you should. Let the wind blow you.”
“Right,” I say with a groan. “Because that’s exactly who I am as a person. Just letting things happen instead of planning them.”
“Maybe it’s time to adapt.” He shrugs one suggestive shoulder in my direction. “Didn’t you learn anything here at camp? You’ve got to think on your feet.”
“Please.” I sigh. “Don’t even think about using football analogies on me.”
Quinn’s booming laughter sounds like it comes from his toes. “All right, I’ll let it go. I’m just saying…”
“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” I say, hurrying to hush him as Blake approaches us from the center of the field, a smile on his undeniably handsome face. “Now, drop it.”
Quinn slings the bags of balls over his shoulder with a gloating smile, and I consider the ramifications of stabbing him. I don’t even know how I feel about Blake yet. The last thing I need right now is Quinn freaking Bailey complicating things by inviting outside interest in the situation.
“You still up for that weight-room competition?” Blake asks as he arrives, a bag of his own balls slung over his shoulder. The two big, muscular men look like a couple of fit football Santa Clauses.
“You bet,” Quinn agrees. “Cat’s busy until five anyway.”
The mere mention of his wife’s name makes me smile at the fond memories I have of her over the years. “How is Cat these days?”
“Excellent,” Quinn says, beaming. “Better than every other person combined, in my humble opinion.”
I smile. “Good you found someone who can put up with you.” I was a fairly young girl when they got together, but I was aware enough to know their romance was full of struggle and obstacles. Now that I’m researching compatibility, everything about how their story unfolded seems way more interesting than it did back then.
“Please. She doesn’t just put up with me. She worships me.” Quinn winks. “Just like Boden’s going to after I kick his ass at the racks.”
“Great,” Blake says through a soft chuckle. “We’ll drop these balls off in the training closet on the way there, then.”
“You both act like you have privileges in the weight room.” I point at Quinn. “You’re retired.” And then at Blake. “And you don’t play professional ball yet.”
“Yet, huh?” Blake waggles his brows.
I shake my head, but Quinn just smiles at me.
“We’re with the owner’s daughter, Lexi Lou. Somehow, I think it’ll all shake out okay.”
I sigh.
“Don’t worry, Lex,” Blake chimes in. “We’ll try to make it entertaining, at least. And I can still spot you if you want to participate.”
“Yes. You’ve mentioned that.”
Blake laughs, holding up both hands innocently. “Okay, I surrender. You just tell me if you change your mind.”
“Blake.”
“Right, right.”
Quinn is like a fucking drugged hyena trying to keep his smug laughter at bay, and I narrow my eyes at him in warning. He’s on my short list if he doesn’t cool it. I swear, people are always looking for romance in everything.
Even if it—most likely—doesn’t exist.
“Just a little bit more. You got it, Lex. Come on,” Blake coaches as I get close to reracking the bar on the bench press. It’s only ten pounds on each side of a fifteen-pound bar for a whopping thirty-five pounds, but my wrists are shaking, and my arms feel like Jell-O.
It’s official. I’m a weakling.
And a fool.
Because for as much as I fought it, here I am, letting Blake Boden coach me through weight-training exercises and trusting that he’s capable of making sure I don’t get hurt.
Quinn left about thirty minutes ago to meet up with his wife, and despite the act of nonchalance I’ve been putting on, I didn’t go running into the night with my hair on fire to get away from Blake.
Instead, I hung around until he convinced me to try doing a few reps with some light weights.
The bar clanks into the holder finally, and I drop my arms to my chest, totally and completely exhausted. Blake pulls me up by my hands, and I duck my head under the bar until I’m upright again.
“See! I knew you could do it! A little bit of light training a few times a week and you’ll be close to my bench weight before you realize.”
“Ha!” I say loudly, shaking my head. “You’re joking, right? You bench double my body weight. Double. I’m a fragile skeleton. I don’t think I’ll be turning into a leafcutter ant anytime soon.”
“A leafcutter ant?”
“Yes.” I smile for what has to be the one-hundredth time since I stepped into the weight room with him. “They lift fifty times their body weight. They are literally one of the strongest things to ever exist.”