Riley #2
The contemptuous snort that erupted from him was designed to make my temper flare up. “Honestly? You seem preoccupied with this stupid animosity.”
He would be preoccupied with it, too, if he’d ever cared about anything that had existed between us. The fact that he so casually dismissed it only helped to entrench me in my position. And my position was, ‘Fuck. Him.’
“Can you maybe focus on what really matters here?” he asked, punching up his pace by half a mile per hour.
I raised mine a mere heartbeat later, sliding into a comfortable jog. “I am focused. I’m focused on bringing this team to the top. I’m focused on the championship. I’m focused on carving my way to the NHL no matter what it takes.” My breaths grew short.
I spotted him glancing at my dashboard and bringing up his own pace.
That was enough to force me to steady my breathing and take lungfuls of air.
If he wanted to play the game of endurance, he would definitely lose.
After all, I was the one who had to endure life after he’d abandoned me. My pain tolerance was above average.
Not that I would ever tell him how much it fucking hurt to lose him.
Of all the people in the world, Cameron Martinez deserved that knowledge the least. By right, I shouldn’t even be remembering it, but this cruel twist of fate that had brought him back in my vicinity meant I was reminded of it every waking moment.
It wasn’t fucking fair.
For the next few minutes, we kept outrunning one another in a pathetic duel of wills. The fucker seemed desperate to run faster than me, but I wasn’t just going to lie down and take it.
Sure enough, I ran like there was an ugly past chasing me. Sweat covered my brow and soaked my back, but that was nothing new to me. With controlled breathing and proper posture, I could do this all day.
Cameron pressed his dashboard and began speeding up, but a sudden, loud rhythm of four quick beeps made me look at him. His face twisted in annoyance.
“The hell? Are you dying?” I panted, embarrassed that I couldn’t force my voice to sound any more normal.
He began lowering his speed. Although I would rather drop dead than admit it, I was glad to lower mine, too.
“Ah, abnormal heart rate,” he huffed with an eye roll, tapping his smartwatch that had raised the alarm.
I scoffed. “Truly, the definition of smart.”
Cameron rolled his eyes, then went into cooldown on his workout. I matched it, bringing my pace back to a nice run, then to a speedy walk a few minutes later. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he thankfully kept it to himself for the remainder of our warmups.
The same crap continued happening when we got off our treadmills and picked up dumbbells.
Mr. Successful just had to go with a few more pounds even though it made his face twist and contort with exertion.
And me? I had to match him, at least. I was the captain, so I was supposed to show strength.
Especially to someone who, by default, didn’t respect me.
My arms felt like jelly by the end of the fourth set. I saw no way to get our heads aligned this way, but I wasn’t exactly planning on saying that to Coach Murray’s face.
It was close to the end of our training that Cameron was leaning against a wall and his smart watch lit up.
The short sound was awfully familiar; a trill that practically ended before it had started.
My eyes skipped down his arm, glossy with perspiration, and caught the icon on the display just as Cameron silenced it.
“Tsk.” That was all I said.
“What?” he demanded, pushing himself away from the wall. He came over to me to do his bench press set, adding twenty pounds of weights and waiting for me to answer.
“Nothing,” I said.
“No. It’s something. What is it?” he asked. His tone was clipped and snappy and his eyes narrow.
I inhaled and held my breath for a moment or two. “It’s just… Who the hell needs a Grindr notification on their watch? Can’t it wait?”
Cameron rested his hands on his hips and swayed his shoulders as he stepped up to me.
Those couple of inches he had on me really mattered in moments like these.
He was looking down on me and I was the one having to lift my chin and gaze.
“And it doesn’t bother you to think I might be fucking around? ”
“Hmpf.” I had a sudden urge to retreat. Whatever you do, don’t picture him fucking anyone. “As if I care what you do off ice.”
“Apparently, you do. Why else would it bother you that I have Grindr on my watch?” His expression was so smug that I wanted to wipe it off his face somehow. A few things came to mind, but I pushed them all aside.
“It’s just rude,” I said. “We’re here to align our heads and you’re busy with some fuckboy.”
“Oh and you did so well aligning. All you’ve done was one-up me at every turn.” The fucker slow-clapped. “What camaraderie. Well done, Riley. True team building right here.”
I slapped his hands away with a lazy swat, but he wiggled one around and grabbed my wrist. “Get off,” I barked.