Page 9 of Jockstraps & Newspapers

"Look, Elle, I'm not pressuring you to think about it before you're ready, but, bro…you're about to be coach. You've gotta start pulling back, thinking big picture." Toad sent him an encouraging look. "Start planning your departure, too."

His departure? As if he hadn't been thinking about it constantly.

Elliot slowed to a brisk walk, Toad elbow to elbow with him.

He'd been so wrapped up in getting the job he didn't even think about what happened when he got it.

Elliot had spent his whole career just trying to be the best. Trying to convince the mean voices in his head that it was worth it.

Not the money, not the fame, not the applause; but was playing SportsBall worth it to not be there for his family?

His father had wanted Elliot to take over the business.

He was big, he was strong, and he was intimidating.

Elliot didn't want that to be his legacy.

So, SportsBall had to be worth it. Now, being a coach needed to be worth it.

"Well, I guess I need to talk to Renner, for real this week, get his last passing wisdom, huh?" Elliot gave Toad a weak smile.

Toad gave him a brilliant grin back, "Don't worry, you got this. You've got the head to be coach, you just gotta get in there and play the game. You've always been better once your fingers were in the mix."

Elliot chuckled, clapping his hand to Toad's shoulder. "Aprecish, bro."

"I got you, bro."

As they turned to start again, in unison they gasped.

They had stopped beside a sports boutique.

The window was full of jogging attire and barbells.

However, in one section, were sneakers. And a pretty cherry red with fashionable trim caught his eye.

Elliot flashed Toad a big, mischievous smirk, "You know who'd those would look good on? "

"Journalist supreme," Toad nodded his head and they ducked into the shop.

Thankfully, most sports and coffee shops were open at this hour.

Glistening sun rising over the tree-tops, the morning just rolling in, they stopped in for the pretty but fashionable sneakers in the window.

Elliot wasn't too ashamed to say he'd clocked her shoe size in those heels.

The boots had been a better choice, good arch support and ankle safe.

But these bad boys? Oh, these sneakers would give her relief and support.

Perfect for his little journalist to keep up with him in.

With a bag in hand, they returned to their jog out the door and down the sidewalk. Had he bought a bit more than sneakers? Yeah…but what's sneakers without socks? And what's a running shoe without leggings? and you can't just get leggings without getting the top to match? Right?

E lliot glanced up from the weights as a sweet perfume cut through the harsh scent of sweat.

As much as the scent of outside and grass mixed with sweaty bodies smelt like home, when it was trapped indoors it was intense.

Her light, pearly perfume was a welcome change as Cassiopeia sidled up next to him.

Her tote on her arm, she looked around at all the athletes in their stations.

"Wow, when we're on the field the team doesn't seem so big, then you crunch everyone into one singular room. "

Elliot chuckled, "Yeah, plus most of us are bulkier than a brick wall; takes up space."

He turned away from his task of putting away weights, instantly clocking her struggling with her bag. She flushed when she caught him staring at the large tote. "I needed my laptop. I've got to start writing some stuff, so while we were indoors, I was going to utilize the wifi."

"Big brain move, I like it." He nodded his head in appreciation. "But, you can't leave bags on the ground like you can on the field. Wanna use a locker? We got some."

"Oh! Yeah, actually, that'd be great...wait." She sighed, "I don't have a lock."

"No worries, my little newsie! You can use mine. I get the biggest locker. You know, cap perks." He flashed her a big smile, offering to take her bag.

She eyed him, a cute scowl forming on her lips as she slowly slipped the bag off her shoulder.

Cassie set the bag aside and pulled out a smaller foam case around a laptop, her notepad, and a pen.

Then, even more tenderly, she handed him her bag.

Fragile, got it . So, with the gentlest paws he could manage, he put her bag on his shoulder and motioned for her to follow him.

Weaving between grunting players and their motivating word giving spotters, they left the main part of the gym floor to the locker room in the wings of the gym.

Elliot checked over his shoulder as they entered the locker room to ensure she was still behind him.

She stopped at the doorway. "Isn't it guys only? "

"Nah, gender doesn't play here; it's all just about respect."

Cassie perked up, a curious look on her face as she leaned back out of the locker room.

It must have dawned on her at that moment that the team was a mixed bag of sweaty specimens.

Elliot was rather proud of how diverse their team was—the Maylor Might's couldn't say that much.

His team was strong because everyone was strong.

Their teamwork was based on months of grueling teambuilding and sweating till passing out together.

When Cassie leaned back in, she smiled up at him.

Was that? Was she impressed? A surge of pride filled him.

Damn right she's impressed, the King's Fall Knights are the rockstars of SportsBall.

He nodded for her to follow. There was a bit of swagger in his steps, preening at the thought.

His journalist, Cassie grumpface, fun-hating Darling, was impressed.

He wanted a plaque. Screw the championships, this was his greatest accomplishment.

Swinging to a stop, he worked his combination lock open. "In case you need it, combo is ten, twenty-three, four."

She scribbled it down in her notebook as he popped open the locker and tucked her bag safely in.

His eyes dropped to the bag before looking at her feet.

Still strapped into her boots. Excitement thrummed in him.

He reached in for the sneakers but stopped as she chirped, "Got it!

Thanks, Elliot, that's really nice of you.

And thank you for the text this morning.

I would have never known where you all went, or even thought to look in here. "

Maybe—not yet. He shouldn't have hesitated, but he did. His cheeks burned as he shut the locker and clipped the lock into place. "Of course, when we're not on the field, I keep my phone on me so you can call if you don't see us down there."

Cassie looked at her notepad before peeking up at him through her pretty lashes. "And, again, I am sorry for my judgmental unprofessionalism. I'm actually looking forward to this now."

"Don't stress it, if I got twisted about mean comments, I'd be a spiral. But, yours weren't all that mean, hardly even close." He shrugged it off. "But I appreciate the apology. Fully accept."

Cassie chewed on her cheeks, eyes narrowing at him. He grinned, feeling her brewing something beneath the skin. However, she let out a low, shaky breath before she spoke. "I'm so glad."

"Mmm, I dunno, you don't sound like you're glad?" he teased, watching her left eye twitch.

"You talk like a teenager," she spat, snapping her notepad closed.

"What you mean to say—"

She let out a howl of frustration, whirling on her heel, and stormed out of the locker room. "I don't hate fun! I just hate your butchering of language."

Elliot giggled evilly, trotting after her. "Am I butchering it or am I having fun with it?"

"Don't you have arms to work out or a leg press to break or something?

" She whipped around at the doorway to the locker room.

He slowed to a stop just in time to watch her fuss with her curls for a moment.

Relaxing back on his hooves, he studied her as she did her best to swat the flyaways.

Finally, she pouted and returned her attention to him. "Will you braid it again?"

"Absolutely," he breathed, motioning toward the benches outside the locker room. She sat her stuff down on them before ripping her scrunchie out of her curls.

"I ought to shave them off, lot of good they do me," she grumbled to herself.

Elliot ran his fingers through her curls delicately, like a wide toothed comb. Her shoulders visibly relaxed. He scooped the mess of curls together and detangled them before working his magic. "I wish you wouldn't."

"I wish I had been born with Andromeda's hair, or even Lyra's.

Those are mature and chic. I look like a fluff ball most days, or I look like that child actress who wears overalls that everyone swoons over.

" Cassie crossed her arms under her chest. He could feel she cared for her hair, despite how much she hated it.

The curls were silky and bouncy. He enjoyed them, feeling them spring back and forth as he wove them with his fingers.

"Who's Andromeda or Lyra?" He knew it was best not to put his hoof in his mouth by telling her that she looked nothing like a child actress.

With her hips in those jeans? She looked more like his fantasy than some actress.

She was in a short sleeve blouse again, but that didn't stop it from making her arms look good enough to snack on or her belly for that matter.

Maybe I should have eaten more for breakfast. Focus!

He was thinking of wrapping his tongue around her meaty calves and thick thighs instead of paying attention to her.

Definitely gotta up the breakfast brainfood.

"My older sisters." The words were soft, almost wounded.

"Ah, you're the baby of the pack, huh?" he teased, trying to rip her out of her head.

"Ha!" she barked. "I'm the middle child, My younger sisters, Katterina and Haylee, they're twins and the babies of the family."

"Ouch, middle child." He finished the braid, snapping the scrunchy in place.

He'd kept it to a single braid. Running his fingers down the woven tendrils, he appreciated all the subtle colors of yellow and beige in her hair.

Elliot stepped back as she picked up her things once more. "I'm the oldest in my pack."

"Figures," she muttered.

"Whoa, you're an eldest child hater, now?" he snorted.

"Eldest child gets everything and the babies are spoiled." She cast him a look before motioning back toward the main room. "Lead on, I've still got a bit more to get from you today before I'm out of your fur."

Yet, he was struck. Even as he mounted a bench, curling weights to his side while Cassie asked questions about SportsBall.

His mind was on Jessie. Growing up, it'd always been Elliot, Jessie, and Rex.

Elliot was the oldest and biggest. Rex was the smallest and the sickest. So…

what did Jessie get? Elliot reminded himself to give his brother a call when he left practice. He owed him an apology, it seemed.