by Lainey Davis
Evidently, he pushed himself doing the butterfly. One mis-timed kick started off a spasm that wouldn’t quit. “Does it feel better now?” I ask, while I help him into a sitting position.
I hear a cough and I jolt, remembering that Justin has been here observing. I just handled Tim’s entire case—didn’t even ask for permission or advice. Justin stands with his arms crossed, frowning. “You seem like you’ve got things under control here, Hampton. What are you thinking next?”
I prod Tim to roll onto his stomach. “I’m thinking ice and stim.” Tim groans as Justin hands me the equipment to hook up to Tim’s back so we can send gentle, eletrical pulses to contract and release Tim’s muscles. His mood lightens. Justin pats me on the shoulder and walks off to take care of the other athletes who need help.
I get Tim connected to the unit and walk off to prepare some bags of ice for him. He sighs as the pressure increases. Most of the athletes say it hurts so good. Once I get Tim situated and on a timer, Justin summons me into his office.
“You did really well today,” he tells me.
“Thank you.”
I keep waiting for him to say “but,” since I know I overstepped with Tim. I’m just an undergrad work study. I start shifting my weight. The football team will be here any minute and Bax likes me to stretch him out, even though I’m not supposed to do that, either.
Justin doesn’t look up from his notes, his pen flying along the page. “I’m assigning you to swim this semester.”
“Swim? Justin, I thought—”
“You’ll be with Tim and his lanky friends and you’ll get real hands-on work assessing injuries and carrying out treatment. The football program won’t allow you nearly this level of access as an undergrad.”
I bite my lip. He’s right, of course. I’m allowed to touch Bax, of course, but the football players are too valuable. A misstep could be devastating to the program if a player got injured. But Bax is a pretty big diva when it comes to me being there for him and that’s a big deal, too. “Does Coach Burns know?”
Justin again doesn’t look up. “Just let me worry about that, Olive. Why don’t you go finish up with Tim?”
I step out of his office and reach for my phone to turn it on and at least give Bax a heads up, but Justin shouts, “Tim needs to come off the Stim, Olive. Now.”
CHAPTER SIX
Bax
PRACTICE WAS FUCKING brutal today. I’m definitely feeling my lack of sleep after a full session in the weight room and tackle drills on the turf. I can’t wait to get stretched out and sink into an ice bath. Scotty and Finnegan and I walk into the training room, stripping off our shirts like we own the place. Because let’s face it. We do.
We’re bringing this school millions of dollars in TV coverage and ticket sales. So do I act like a bit of a princess insisting that I have Olive with me when I need her? Yeah. I fucking do, and so you can imagine how I feel when I look across the hall and see her leaning all over some skinny dude wearing only shorts.
“Easy, buddy,” Scotty says, putting a hand on my shoulder when he sees me bunching my hands into fists. Slim Jim is talking up a storm to Olive as she runs her hands up his back, disconnecting electrodes. I feel a sudden urge to barge over there and hook them up to his nut sack.
“Olive, what’s going on?” I climb up on my usual table and sit, waiting for her to come over with the foam roller. She looks across the hall at me and bites her lip.
“Justin has me on a rotation with the swim team,” she says, nodding her head toward Slim Jim.
“Thank god,” the asshole says from the table, groaning in relief as she pulls off the last sticker. That mother fucker doesn’t even have any hair on his damn legs.
“Like hell you’re working with the swim team,” I grunt. Another trainer comes over to me, some girl with dark hair and a beauty mark.
“Hey, Baxter,” she says like she knows me. “I’m going to roll you out today, ok?”
“No!” I’m shouting now and everyone in the room turns to look. “Olive always works with me.” Olive flushes as Justin steps out of the office. I know what this is about. I cock blocked that squirmy jerk and he’s pulling a power play. I’m very familiar with men who like to pull shit like this when they feel threatened.
“Is there a problem here, Mr. Morgan?” He walks up to the table and stands with his arms crossed, like he’s not half my size.
“Yeah. You can’t switch trainers on me.” I’m not going to be polite. I know what I’m worth in this program. “Get Coach Burns in here.” I’m not going to fuck around with this guy’s power trip. I’m going right for the big guns.
But Justin leans forward and gets in my face. “I could do that,” he says. “Or you could be reasonable. Working with the swim team will allow Olive the real, hands-on experience she needs to get accepted into a graduate athletic training program. With funding,” he adds and glares at me. “Do you really want to deny her that opportunity so she can rub a foam roller on your legs every afternoon?”
Son of a bitch. I hate this fucking guy. I can’t think right now, so I flop on my stomach and glare at him while whats-her-name gets working on my back.
“Hey,” Scotty says to me from where he’s sprawled on the table next to me getting worked on by another trainer. “Be happy for Olive. This is a good opportunity for her—right?”
I don’t say anything. On the surface, this looks like a win for her. But I’m uneasy, because I know what I saw last night. I don’t know what Justin’s game is here, but I don’t fucking like it. Plus now I have to figure out how to make it clear to the swim team that my girl is off limits. This year was supposed to be easy for me outside of football.
Lift hard. Hit hard. Run hard. The rest is supposed to be cake. I just have to make it through the draft combine this spring with no drama.
I sigh and try to relax, except Beauty Mark goes a little rough on my hamstrings.
After I get stretched out and given the green light, I catch Olive’s eye. She waves at me while she’s checking out someone’s arm. I hate how much she has to have her hands on all these shirtless dudes. They’re not stupid. They know Olive is hot as hell, even if she has no idea. She’s all blonde waves and soft curves.
Curves that no guy here—including me—should fantasize over.
Olive doesn’t need me destroying her dreams. I’m not the only one with goals. She left her parents behind to drink themselves to death and hasn’t looked back. She’s applying to the best graduate programs in the country and she’s always talking about what experiences she needs to look good for earning funding.
But fuck if I’m going to be functional right now. I’m too worked up.
“Scotty,” I shout over the noise in the locker room. “I need to get laid.”
“Yeah, man, you fucking do.” Scotty claps me on the back and we head to the bars. I need to clear my head or I’m going to burst. Or hit someone. I try not to think about Olive’s confused face as I blew out of the training room—I know she heard me say that I’m on the prowl. I’ll check in with her tomorrow and everything will make sense again.
Finnegan and JT are already at the bar when Scotty and I roll in. The guys from the team are sprawled around a table near the bar, and word has gotten out that the SCU football team is in the house. The place is packed, and it seems like everyone is trying to come up to us. With his injury, JT has attracted double the number of jersey chasers looking to nurse his wounds. In no time, I’ve got a drink in my hand and a girl on my lap—some redhead in little shorts who wriggles around too much.
I wouldn’t even need to try to get her to go with me into the bathroom. It’s what I usually do. It’s what I came here for. But something just feels off. I don’t know if it’s because I didn’t get enough sleep last night or if I’m just pissed that Olive will be with the swim team this season instead of with me where she belongs. With me…I don’t even let myself think about her that way.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I say to t
he girl on my lap. “Can I get you to shift over to a seat? I think I really hurt my leg today at practice…”
She doesn’t get the hint. She coos up at me and starts trying to massage my leg with her tiny hands, poking at my thigh. I excuse myself to use the restroom, and as I’m coming back to the table, I see she has moved on to someone else.
I sigh in relief, and then feel an overwhelming urge to get the hell out of here. Something must be really wrong with me if I don’t even want to stick around here. I catch Finnegan’s eye and tilt my head toward the door. He nods and I head home. Hopefully this weird mood I’m in is all due to me being tired. I climb into bed in my clothes, and only then do I realize I never texted Olive tonight to check on her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Olive
I COME HOME from my shift and turn on the TV, waiting for a text from Bax that he’s coming over for a snack. I need to talk to him, see if we can figure out the best thing to do about the training room.
On the one hand, Justin is totally right. This experience training the swimmers is going to be amazing for me. On the other, I can tell that blindsiding Bax and pulling me to a different team with no notice once the semester has already begun is…off.
I think back to the other night at the bar and I feel uneasy. I wish Baxter were here so we could talk it out. When he has food and a couch, he can usually stay calm and help me talk rationally about my problems.
Of course, my problems don’t usually affect him like this one does.
Can you come over? I hate feeling clingy and texting Bax like this, but I also really need to talk this through with him. I wait an entire episode of Real Housewives and my message is still unread. I sigh. I need to talk to someone about this or I’m going to go insane.
I bite my lip. I’m not really friends with anyone other than Baxter. I talk sometimes with Julia and the other trainers, but I don’t have any girlfriends.
It’s not that late, so I decide to crack open my door and see if the girls across the hall are home.
Feeling like a creeper, I peer into the crack and I see that their door is open and they’re watching TV. I back up and rummage in my closet for a jar of animal crackers, and then knock on their door frame. Tia and Elyse look up and their faces brighten. “Hey, neighbor,” they say. “What’s up?”
I hold out the jar of cookies. “I brought sustenance. Is it ok if I hang out?”
Tia nods enthusiastically, reaching for the animal crackers. Cramming a few in her mouth, she pauses the show and asks, “What’s up? You don’t usually hang.”
I swallow. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I guess I’m shy about talking to people I don’t know very well.”
“You’re with Baxter Morgan from the football team, right?” Elyse raises a brow and looks at me skeptically. I shake my head vigorously.
“Oh,” I say. “No. Baxter and I grew up together. We’re just friends.”
Elyse rolls her eyes, but I insist. “I’m serious. He’s out picking up girls right now. I just…we went through a lot together growing up, that’s all.”
“I’ve got friends from home like that,” Tia says. “It’s good to have someone who knows your whole back story.”
“Well,” I say. “I was actually hoping I could maybe ask you for your input about something, since you two don’t know anything about my back story.”
Elyse’s face lights up. “Is this about hunky football bodies? Cuz I am here for that.”
That gets a laugh out of me. I explain to the girls that my boss acted sort of weird at the bar, got yelled at by Baxter, and then switched me to another sports team with no notice. They both look puzzled.
“So you’re not doing it with Morgan?”
“I’ve never done it with anyone!” I just blurt it all out then. How Baxter intervened in high school any time a boy showed interest in me. How I haven’t made time to date anyone in college because I need to keep my scholarship. How very desperate I am to find funding for a graduate program.
When I pause to catch a breath, Tia puts her arm around my shoulders. “Whew, girl. That’s a lot,” she says. “Let’s start with work. It’s creepy. That shit with your boss is creepy.”
Elyse nods. “Super creepy.”
I feel a wave of relief hearing them confirm that Justin’s behavior was indeed weird. They agree that nothing has actually happened yet, but that I should remain on alert. “Are you ever alone with him?” Elyse seems as concerned as Baxter when she asks. “Don’t let yourself be alone with him. Call us if anything else weird happens.”
“It’s weird, right? I’ve been shadowing the football staff the whole time I’ve been at SCU. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m so glad for the opportunity to do some real recovery stuff with the swim team. But it’s sudden, right?”
“So sudden.” Tia hands me a chocolate bar from her desk drawer, and I nibble on the end.
I want to protest, tell them I don’t want to bother them with a phone call and say they should keep their emergency chocolate, but it feels so good to just open up to people. While I eat the chocolate, Elyse tells me about a guy from her class that she’s been lusting after for years.
“The key for me getting in his pants is going to be whiskey,” she says. “I’m bringing whiskey when we study for midterms.”
Tia laughs and points out that Elyse has been wearing tight tanks and leggings when she studies with this guy, no matter how cold it is outside. “She’s not being subtle about anything,” she says.
As they talk about her plans to bag the boys, I get lost in my swirling thoughts again. I keep thinking about Tim the swimmer, how I had my hands all over his body. I could see absolutely everything outlined in his shorts, and yet I had no reaction whatsoever. He was just a person in pain, and all I could focus on was trying to make him feel better.
When I’m rolling Bax out after practice or a game, I’m not nearly that professional. Baxter Morgan is a hulking beast of a human—6 foot, 2 inches. Two hundred pounds of solid muscle. Everything about him is huge, from his size 14 feet to his hands that are bigger than my entire face. When he lies on his back in his mesh shorts, I can see the outline of all his parts, too, and I don’t look away.
No, I objectify my best friend and stare at his junk, longing to touch it. I relate to Elyse when she talks about dropping pencils just so she can brush against her crush’s leg.
I glance at my phone and see that Bax still hasn’t even read my text message, which means he’s out with a random girl.
Tia sees me pouting at my phone and snaps her fingers. “Hey. Spill it. What’s making you upset right now?”
I show her the phone. “Bax hasn’t even read my text, and that usually means he’s banging some jersey chaser. And I don’t care—I’m serious. Don’t look at me that way.” Elyse has one eyebrow raised so high it disappears into her hair. “It’s just… Maybe I want to be someone’s casual fuck, too. I mean, it must feel good or he wouldn’t keep doing it over and over again.”
“Oh, this is good,” Elyse says. “Yes. We can get Olive laid! Tia, who can she bang?”
“Why not one of these athletes she’s always touching?” Tia looks dreamily at her poster of the SCU hockey team. “All those muscles…”
We talk for awhile about what makes for a good first time. Honestly, at this point I think I just need to get it over with. Maybe if I weren’t full of pent up sexual energy, I wouldn’t find myself thinking inappropriate thoughts about my best friend.
It could be so simple. Just wear tight tank tops and drop a pencil, wink at someone in my econ lecture. What if I just need to uncork this sexual dam and I can go back to just being friends with Bax?
Tia tells me she’s got an early class, and I take the hint and head back across the hallway after hugging the girls good night. I regret that I didn’t reach out to them earlier to make friends, but they insist we eat dinner tomorrow in the dining hall, and I’m excited about that.
The feeling doesn’t last long on
ce I’m alone, however.
I turn off my lights and climb up in my bunk, hoping I can get some sleep, but in the dark, all I can think about is Baxter’s breath synching with mine, his face an inch from mine in his bed. All I would have had to do was lean in an inch, and my lifelong fantasy could have been realized.
I pull out my phone and start scrolling through my pictures. They’re all of him. Of us together. Me in his jersey with my arm around his waist while he’s in full SCU uniform. Him holding up my scholarship letter, pointing and grinning from ear to ear. No wonder Tia and Elyse kept asking me if we were together. It’s written plain and clear on my face how badly I want him. But it can’t happen. I know that.
But I also think about the other night, when he held me close in his bed, curled against the warm heat of his rock solid body. I feel an unrelenting throb in my center and I know there won’t be any sleep until I ease that ache. I reach down, sliding my hand under the waist of my panties, and I start to rub slow circles against my core.
I think about Baxter, about the heat in his eyes tonight in the training room. I imagine my hands on his back, on the smooth skin covering solid muscle. What would it feel like to trail my tongue along his hard lines? It doesn’t take long before I’m gasping, panting, plummeting over the edge of pleasure.
And then, as fast as it began, it’s over, and I’m alone in my room, somehow feeling ashamed about my entire day.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Olive
BAX DOESN’T CALL, doesn’t return my text, and I don’t see him the entire next day. It feels so off to me, so foreign. I feel hurt about it, because I know he’s upset that Justin moved me to the swim team, but it all just feels worse because I can’t even see Bax to talk about it.
