Page 6

Chapter 6

Logan

It doesn't mean that I don't avoid Evie for a couple of days. Or several.

If I'm thinking of Mystery Girl every night, and her hair looks a bit different now, it's not a big deal. If I catch myself replaying that night again in my mind, with the way I believed she wanted me for me and wasn't there for the wrong reasons, and how she didn't ask anything of me but that moment together…

Alone in my bed at night is the only place where those memories are welcome. Everywhere else, and it will be chained in place.

A few of her emails wait in my inbox, but my eyes are on the team and training. This is the time to get to know everyone, and work on that cohesion we'll need to get to the playoffs. It's a big part of what Selena wants, too, and it's my number one target.

That's why I'm laying down on one of the treatment tables and getting a massage I don't need. A few of my teammates occupy the medical-type examination beds around me, and chatter flows easily.

Leon groans next to me. The sound is deep, almost cavernous. It fits with his big, offensive lineman size, the tattoos covering his form, and the thick beard he keeps. Even the white scar on his top lip matches his general vibe. No wonder they call him The Bear.

"You okay?" I ask.

We're both on our backs. I'm getting work on my shoulder and upper arm, but the physio working on him hovers around his hips and in my line of sight.

"I have an elbow digging deep into my groin." Contained pain etches his words. "I won't apologize for the noises I need to make."

"Go right ahead. Do what you must."

"Didn't mean anything by it, but… groin. It's the worst."

"An elbow dig hurts anywhere." Saint is getting work on his thigh, two beds away from me. "But a deep tissue back massage is bliss."

I glance at the wide receiver with quick dimples and an easy smile. Gael Santiago is well known for being the handsome athlete going through dates like he's on a mission to sleep with every eligible person in the city. He's the friendly type, and the kind to dress in fashion-forward clothes and happily pose for the cameras. Total opposite to me, but so approachable I'm looking forward to getting to know him.

"Do you have a massage therapist you trust?" I can't see Saint properly from where I am, so I stare at the ceiling instead.

"Yeah, I'll hook you up," Saint says.

I've been around everyone for a few weeks. There's a lot I don't know yet, but I'm slowly getting there. I've learned that the athletic center we're in has a long, fancy name, but everyone calls it the Thunderdome or TD for short. I know Leon and Saint are part of a closer group of friends within the larger roster, though there are no evident cliques or real contention among the team. And I'm pretty sure everyone is still deciding what they think of me.

Being myself around them while finding ways to create connections is a hard balance to manage, but I'm determined. I may be serious and even cranky at times, but I want the closeness I never got with my previous teams. I lost precious years of my career to the wrong coach and group of guys. This is my time to make up for it.

The TD training rooms have an open space layout. Leon, Saint, and I are on the rehab tables in one corner, but the big space also has a taping area, several treatment machines, stretching cages and other physio implements. On the long side toward the front, the wall is made of collapsible glass panels that open up the room to the outside field. On the left side, the space connects to the weight room, across from where the coaches and other trainers offices are, and through which we have to go to get to the bullpen, locker area, and showers. To the back, the wet room, with its three pools designed for different conditioning and recovery treatments, and five ice dunking tubs. The final side holds a few of the physiotherapists' and other professional offices, and the hallway that connects the area to the rest of the building.

It is through that hallway that Evie appears, and I groan. The sound catches my teammate's attention, and the two of them glance in her direction.

"Miss Moreno," Leon says. "What a treat seeing you here."

She settles between him and Saint. Today she wears a navy pencil skirt, tight around her wide hips, and a loose, wine-colored blouse tucked into it. Her hair falls loose and straight down her back, and her lips are painted the same color as her top.

The curve of her hip down her thick thigh is calling for my hand. It needs to be caressed. Or slapped again.

Into a metal box it goes, closed with a padlock. Instantly compartmentalized.

I may have casually looked up the relevant policies. I may have learned that relationships are allowed in the organization, as long as there are no power imbalances and everyone involved consents. A meeting with HR and it's all good. And sure, I double checked and Evie and I are considered peers according to the Strike's hierarchy structure, but romantic relationships are far from my goal. Not even a repeat is in the plans with her. This knowledge is useless, when she wants to push me to perform for the media .

"Hello, Bear." She high fives him. "The groin still bothering you?"

She doesn't look my way, but focuses on Leon closely.

"Just a temporary setback," he says. "I'll be good in a minute."

She shifts her eyes to Saint. "Is everything okay with you today?"

"It's just maintenance treatment today, Evie. Thanks for handling that one issue for me the other day, by the way."

I frown. She looks so friendly interacting with the guys, so approachable. Her energy now is so different from what I saw all those years ago.

"You didn't need to send me flowers." She grins at Saint. "I'm glad to help."

"To what do we owe the pleasure?" he asks.

Her face sets on a mock frown, and it's clear Bear knows what it means because he chuckles. I squint and track the show closely.

"I'm missing one of your teammates," she says. "He's new, and maybe he doesn't know the lay of the land yet? I've heard he's the new quarterback. I've sent him a few emails but I haven't heard from him."

"You must be talking about Logan King." Saint's dimples make an appearance. "I think I've seen him around."

Pilar, the physio treating my shoulder, presses her lips into a thin line to hold back her laugh. I frown at her but it doesn't deter her. She lifts her eyebrows, as if to say, what did you expect?

"Yeah, I think that's the name!" Evie exclaims. "I really need to talk to him."

Leon runs his hand down his short beard. "We can give him a message. What do you want us to tell him?"

She crosses her arms and stares directly at me. "That he should stop hiding, and meet me in Media Room 3 in half an hour."

Pilar snorts. Leon whistles. Saint chuckles.

"Anything for you, Evie." He gives her a solemn nod. "We'll tell him."

"Thank you both." She pats their shoulders simultaneously. "Let me know if you need anything."

"You're the best," Leon adds, before she arches an eyebrow at me and leaves .

My teammates and physio study my reaction. I purse my lips and hum in displeasure.

"No one plays with Evie," Saint says with a smile. "You'll thank us later."

I'm not sure if he means that as a threat because she'll be protected, or a threat because she won't tolerate games. Maybe both. Either way, I hear the warning clearly.