Page 3 of 3rd and 4 (Season of Change #3)

“Daya.” I’m walking into the athletic complex for the second day of training camp. Eva rushes to catch up with me and I smile in greeting, hefting my bag over my shoulder. “Hey. How’s it going?”

“Good. How about you?” I wasn’t sure what to make of Eva’s attention yesterday.

She said all the right things, was kind, and introduced me to everyone, but…

maybe I’ve just been around enough mean girls to expect the worst from people.

I don’t get that vibe from Eva, however, I don’t know anyone here, so I don’t feel confident in my ability to discern bullshit and ill-intent.

“ I hurt myself again… ” Eva starts singing Johnny Cash’s cover of the Nine Inch Nails song and I chuckle. “Seriously, I thought I was keeping up with workouts but apparently I’ve been slacking because I am sore as hell.”

“Me too.” I respond automatically. Eva stops walking, her hand on my shoulder to stop me. “What?”

“You don’t have to pretend.” My brows furrow, making her roll her eyes with a kind smile. “You aren’t sore. Because you’ve kept up with your workouts. Because you’re,” I know what’s coming. I brace myself for an insult, and am pleasantly surprised when she says, “freaking incredible!”

“What?” I was not expecting that, and she sounds sincere.

“Haters gonna hate.” She’s all sass and I laugh when she snaps her fingers and cocks her hip.

“Don’t downplay your talent. A few of these bitches are gonna try and fail to show you up, but most of us are gonna work that much harder to keep up with you.

You’ll make the squad better and we’ll be grateful. ”

“She’s right.” I spin around, my lips parting on a gasp.

Elijah Addelsbach is a few feet from us, looking really, really good in compression pants and a muscle tee.

Here’s the problem; I went to a public high school and have grown up around boys all my life.

My best friend is my older brother Brad.

However, I’ve never cheered, tumbled, or danced with any of them.

I think the most jarring part of being on the university’s cheer squad is the guys.

I’ve never dated; I just didn’t have time or the desire to.

They are nice to look at, but I don’t touch.

Or talk a whole lot to them. Addy, as everyone calls him, is not a boy, he’s all man.

And I am ill-equipped to handle all that.

Especially, when he’s staring at me with an unmistakable hunger in his eyes.

He did it yesterday and it flustered me.

He’s a distraction and I can’t afford distractions.

“You’re going to elevate our program and give us the push we need. ”

“I’m not…I won’t make much difference—”

Eva laughs. “Oh, girl. You’ve already made a difference. Isn’t that right, Addy?” He sticks his tongue out at Eva again and their back and forth reminds me of me and my brother.

Addy grins at me. “Yes, she has.” The moment stretches between us until Eva pats my shoulder so hard it propels me toward Addy. I catch myself before I crash into him. “Daya, Jenna wants you and I to work together today. Did you have a chance to review the sequences she laid out?”

“That’s my cue. I think you’re in good hands, Daya. Have fun!” Eva wiggles her fingers at me and heads past us to the locker rooms and practice field.

“Uh…I did. Review them, I mean.” I feel my face flame, but I power through.

“She has some great ideas, but I made a few adjustments, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh! Ok.” At least he’s dedicated. That’s a good sign.

“We’ll practice in the gymnastics training center.

I’d feel more comfortable practicing the lifts and tosses on the mats.

” I smile and wait for him to lead the way.

We walk through the halls in silence for a couple minutes.

“Why aren’t you on the gymnastics team?” I’m taken aback by his question and don’t answer right away.

He glances over his shoulder at me with a self-deprecating smile. “Sorry, that’s probably invasive.”

“No!” I rush to correct him, not wanting him to think I don’t want to talk to him. “It’s not. I just don’t…not a lot of people ask, that’s all.”

“Really?” He slows down so we can walk side by side. I feel his stare, but I keep my eyes on the floor. “I’d think that would be most people’s first question after watching you in action.”

“I love gymnastics. Learning it, practicing it, teaching it…it’s like…homeostasis. It’s my stable environment, my comfort zone.”

“It shows. When you were handspringing and back tucking on the field yesterday, it was easy to see your passion. Hence my question, why not join the gymnastics team. Compete for a chance at the Olympics.”

I blush again but force myself to be honest with him. Eva told me not to hide. “I was asked, more than once. I’ve had three Olympic gymnastics coaches meet with me and my family to discuss training.”

“Your parents wouldn’t let you?”

“My parents would support me no matter what I did, but I didn’t want to do it.

I love it and competing on an international level would be a sure-fire way to eradicate any love I had for the sport.

I grew up watching all the competitions, learning the tricks.

But I also studied the athletes, their faces, their body language, the interactions with other competitors, coaches…

I don’t know if I’m mentally tough enough to do that, but I do know that I don’t want to try.

I cheer, tumble, handspring and back tuck for fun.

Yes, I compete, but not on the scale of the Olympics.

I don’t want to retire at the old age of 28, my body pushed beyond its limits with lifelong consequences to my health and sanity.

I want to teach little kids until Social Security says I can retire. ”

We stopped walking during my word vomit. I shift uncomfortably on my feet, his gaze like a physical touch that coaxes unfamiliar responses in my body. “You and my friend Crue Pribula will get along smashingly.”

“Huh?” Why would he want me to meet his friend?

Oh, God! Is he setting me up with someone?

He doesn’t want me for himself. He’s not interested in me, and I misread his attention.

He’s just an intense guy, focused on his position as Mic-Man.

I’m so stupid! I told myself last night that he was pretty and well built, but nothing would ever come of it.

I’m a freshman, he’s a senior. And I’ve seen the girls on the squad.

Shaye was a bitch, but she was right. I’m not like them. I’m short, lean, and breast deficient.

“Crue is an amazing football player, could go pro in a first-round draft pick, but he doesn’t want any of it.

Wants to manage his family’s farm.” I don’t understand most of what he said except the family farm.

“Baffles literally everyone that he would give up millions of dollars to harvest grain. But that’s what he’s passionate about, that’s what gets him up in the morning.

He’s using football to pay for his degree.

Just like you’re using cheering to pay for yours so you can teach. ”

“And you think…we’ll hit it off?” Addy’s smile drops instantly. I said something wrong.

“As friends.” he spits out. I nod, but his sudden change in mood is confusing. “Come on, let’s get going. We’ve got a lot to run through.” I follow along quietly, his footsteps heavier than they were before. He’s upset and I have no idea why.

Practice with Addy is its own special kind of torture.

I’ve never had a man touch me beyond hugs from my dad and brother, but Addy’s strong, capable fingers are all over me as he lifts me up and walks through the launches without any force.

We’re supposed to be getting comfortable with each other, so our movements are smooth, but every grip of his hand, every brush of his firm body against mine makes me shake.

They steal my breath and it’s hard to remember what I’m supposed to be doing.

I feel wet between my legs and my nipples ache.

My stomach is twisting more than I am and that’s not going to get us anywhere.

After an hour, I hold up my hand to stop him from coming any closer.

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I just…I think I need to study the routines a little more.

Can we pick this up tomorrow? Or the day after?

” I don’t think I can handle his touch anymore today.

I feel like I’m going to combust and the pulse behind my clit is growing increasingly more distracting.

I’m gonna get hurt, or God forbid, hurt Addy because of my recklessness.

“Yeah.” He wipes a towel across his face; his hair is wet and hanging over his face. I want to run my fingers through it. I want to feel it tickle my skin. I want…I want a cold shower and some quiet. “Why don’t we shower, then we can get some lunch.”

“Ok.” I grab my bag and rush through the doors to the women’s locker room at this end of the complex.

I keep the water cool and let it soothe my overheated body.

My muscles loosen. I’m gonna make a fool of myself if I don’t get control of my body.

He’s attractive. Extremely, unfairly attractive.

But that doesn’t mean I have to lose all cognitive abilities.

I wash my hair, then my body. I hiss when the loofah rubs across my nipples, the pulse between my legs growing stronger with every swipe.

I hang up the loofah and run my fingers over my stomach to my clit.

At first touch, I moan as my body jerks like I’ve been electrocuted.

It feels so good. I rub circles over the swollen flesh, my thighs twitching, my core clenching.

Faster, harder, tighter, I push myself to the edge and drop my head back on a long, low moan as pleasure ripples across my body.

My free hand pinches my nipples until my climax washes over me, leaving me breathless and panting against the wall of the shower cubicle.