Chapter Seventeen
Wulf
Striker was not my patient, but his therapist and I agreed I could be a “consulting PT.” No hands on at the clinic, but I could be in the room if Striker asked—which he always did—and offer suggestions.
A few weeks after the session in the Medieval Room, we were leaving the clinic—is appointments were always at the end of the day, after his work shift and so we could go home or wherever we planned together—he pulled me aside before we got in the car. “Can I tell you something?”
“Of course. Is everything all right? Are you all right?” His sessions were intense, my colleague not one to take excuses from patients. He was not in the lifestyle, but he’d have made a great sadist if he had been. “Did you pull a muscle.”
“I’m fine.” He patted my arm. “Such a worrier. No I wanted to let you know I called the number you sent to my phone. Skin to Fur?” As if I could ever forget.
“Oh yeah?” I tried not to show the excitement I felt at this information. “Did you get to talk to anyone?”
“Same official you did, apparently, although he didn’t actually give me his name.
The moment he heard mine, he got very excited and asked when I could join the local training group.
It seems since I last worked out, they’ve formed these mini teams in various areas where coaches can train the kids in their events and help them achieve their best times or other skills. ”
“You didn’t have that?” I’d assumed he did, thinking of kids’ teams I’d seen the parks and stuff.
“No, they are really individual events and most either work out on their own or maybe their pack or parents hire a trainer. Or maybe I should use past tense for that. In order to level the field so it’s not just rich kids who can afford the extra help, a former athlete who has been very successful in life set up a foundation to hire coaches and trainers and provide other advantages.
To all the shifter kids who want to try out someday.
Still individual events but more of a team atmosphere now.
I’m a little jealous. I was one of the not-rich kids who didn’t have any kind of coaching. ”
“I had no idea.” It had just been my lack of knowledge that had me even make that call. So much of what I assumed came from the really visible human sports. “But that sounds amazing. What a great program. Sounds like the job is yours if you want it.”
“It’s basically a glorified volunteer position. I had a name in the community, but I’ve never learned coaching or even had one, obviously, so it’s going to be a lot of time for a teensy bit of money. Is it wrong that I still want to do it?”
“Of course not. I’ll volunteer too. I don’t know a thing about competitions or being an athlete, but I’ll do anything I can.”
“That would be great. I have to admit I’m a little nervous.
I’ve been out of that world for a long time and until now I would have said it would be too painful.
But listening to him talk about all the kids and how this gives them a real goal, something to work toward?
It made me tear up in a good way. I want to help them.
Even though my dreams were sidelined, they still have all of theirs, and helping them reach them…
It would be a whole other level of dream for me. ”
“Then it’s a deal. Be sure to tell them we’re a package.
A BOGO. You get paid, even if it’s little for now, and they get me free.
” I’d never gone to the Skin to Fur Tournament, never really paid attention to sports, but excitement fizzed inside me about this.
Watching my omega use his skills to help kids?
Was there anything sexier than kindness?
Than putting aside his own disappointments for to teach them how to win… and how to lose well?
Not that I could think of.