Page 12

CHAPTER 12

ANOTHER DAY, ANOTHER PRACTICE

JACKSON

“H ey,” I say to Clay as the two of us walk down the hall from the locker room to the practice gym. “Did you hear about Sanders?”

Aaron Sanders was another senior on the team and Rocky Campos’ doubles partner. Talk to the guy for five minutes, and he’s exactly what you’d expect. A cocky rich kid who has absolutely no respect for anyone or anything besides himself. He’s an asshole to everyone he meets and has gotten this far in life on his name alone.

Turns out, he’s a fucking creep too. Over the weekend he was charged with sexual assault and placed in jail. Rumor has it he drugged and raped some innocent girl at a party. Not that he cares, because I’m sure he spent all of five minutes in jail before his parents bailed him out.

However, the dean of the school and Coach Tayor have officially kicked him off the team, which means Rocky is left without a doubles partner during his senior year.

Despite Rocky being the most standoffish person on the team, he’s a truly exceptional player and has the potential to go far in sand volleyball.

? * I feel for the guy, I really do.

“Yeah. Not surprised. Guy is a grade-A fucking asshole.”

Once we enter the gym, I spot Rocky already starting his stretches. He’s a bit of a lone wolf. “Sucks for Campos, though.”

Clay takes a swig of his water before setting the bottle on the bench. “Yeah. I couldn’t even imagine losing my partner senior year.”

“Yeah, me either.”

“Come on.” Clay grabs a volleyball and tosses it to me. “Let’s go warm up.”

As the two of us walk onto the court, I do a fast scan for Theo.

Nothing.

Not that it’s any different from how he’s been the last two months.

I thought that once the season began and we started practice it would be better. But it hasn’t.

Except for the first practice, when he came in to introduce himself and I almost felt my heart fall out of my ass, he has made himself scarce. Only interacting with players from our team in the physical therapy rooms or in the weight room. Besides the first day he hasn’t made a single appearance in the gym or out on the sand. And every time I see him in passing he won’t dare to make eye contact with me.

And I can’t confront him because I’m always surrounded by teammates when I see him, and as desperate as I am, I wouldn’t put him in that situation.

But I’ve barely seen him at all since Halloween. He’s avoided me in every way possible, and it’s really starting to piss me off. Unless I make the effort to follow him in the shadows, it would be like he dropped off the face of the planet.

And when I went back to Montana for the holidays I wasn’t able to feed my obsession at all. I felt like I was going out of my mind at the absence of him being near. I know my family could tell. And when my dad asked me what was going on, I didn’t have a way to explain that I was obsessed with my thirty-year-old neighbor who is my physical trainer, so I just put on a smile and said nothing.

Because that’s apparently all this is to him. Nothing.

He got me addicted to him, and he pulled away.

Again .

It’s our first practice back after break, and I’m feeling desperate. Desperate to hear him say my name. Desperate to touch him, even if it’s just the brush of a shoulder. Desperate to simply see him.

“Jax!” Clay yells from the other side of the court.

“Huh? Yeah. What’s up?”

“I asked if you were ready?”

I look around the gym one more time, before settling on the fact I’m not going to see him today. “Yup. Ready.”

* * *

“Shit,” I grunt as Rocky slams another hit at me. We’re warming up with a simple hitting and receiving drill, and since Rocky doesn’t have a partner, he’s been doing most of the hitting. He’s obviously beyond pissed. Rightfully so. But could he chill the fuck out for five minutes before my arms fall off. “I legitimately think my arms are going to bruise.”

Clay chuckles, and we both get into our ready positions for another hit. “Don’t be such a pansy-ass,” he jabs.

Coach Taylor sets the ball outside. Rocky takes his approach and drills the ball down the line. Clay moves just in time to receive the pass. Except, when it hits his forearms he’s not quite steady on his feet yet, and the force behind Rocky’s hit knocks him on his ass.

I can’t help it. I laugh my ass off as I make my way over to his stunned form. It’s not often a player gets the better of Clay. I’m secure enough in my skills to know that he’s one of the best players I’ve ever seen. But so is Rocky. “Who’s the pansy-ass now?” I ask as I hold out my hand to help my best friend up.

“Shut the hell up,” he grunts.

Despite everything going on outside of volleyball, the one thing I can always count on is for this sport to clear my mind. To make everything seem okay.

Even when I find myself questioning who I am, volleyball helps remind me I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.

* * *

Another day, another practice.

But at least today we’re able to get some scrimmaging in. Until now, it’s been nothing but conditioning and drills. And if Coach Taylor made us do one more targeting drill I was going to bury myself in the sand.

Coach has Clay and I scrimmage one of the junior teams. And even though they’re a junior pair, they’re every bit as talented.

They’re on this team for a reason.

Which is why Clay and I are both pouring sweat by the second game of the set.

“Holy fucking shit,” Clay huffs as he wipes his face with his shirt. “I ate too many christmas cookies for this shit.”

“Shut up and set me the ball.” I’m too tired to make jokes, because… same.

One of the juniors serves the ball over the net, and despite its power, it lands perfectly on my forearms. I pass it high to a waiting Clay at the net. I’m already moving by the time Clay quickly sets the ball. Except on my second step my foot slides and my knee buckles. I feel it happen before my body even hits the floor.

The sharp pain reverberates all the way up my hip and back down again. Pulsing so hard I can practically feel it in my teeth.

Fuck.

I lay on the floor, grabbing my knee in pain as I hear Coach Taylor shout for Theo.

God fucking damn it. This cannot be happening.

Clay and Coach Taylor drop to the ground beside me, and the rest of the gym remains silent as I hear a pair of footsteps sprinting across the floor. Theo is beside me just a moment later.

This was supposed to be my year.

I feel tears sting my eyes at both the pain in my knee and the thought of everything that is about to be lost. But when Theo places his hand on my arm, and I look up at his sage-green eyes, I manage to take a deep breath.

He’s here. I’m looking at him.

Theo’s here.

* ? Under Pressure (feat. Chase Atlantic) - RILEY, Chase Atlantic