29. Im Just a Girl Who Can Hit a Moving Target from One Hundred Yards Away
I havea proximity detector when it comes to Brant Morrison. The closer I am, the more forceful the alarm. The alarm in this case is a throbbing between my legs. Being alone with him in his SUV? Being surrounded by his citrus and leather scent? That thing is going full klaxon right now. I crack a window, hoping the smell of car exhaust will clear my mind, but it doesn”t. I even hold my nose to the opening. It works for Silver, but apparently not humans. And right turns? I used to think right turns were so innocent. Now every one causes my shoulders to sway closer to him, and I realize how evil they really are.
I should have refused to ride with him. I wouldn”t have this problem in my car. But in my car, I wouldn”t have this view either. I wouldn”t see those green eyes flick over to me every couple of minutes. I wouldn”t be able to see the way the muscles in his forearms flex as he grips the steering wheel.
After at least three eternities, we finally pull into the parking lot, and I”ve never been so relieved to see so many incredibly expensive cars. There”s Kayden”s ridiculous hot pink Lamborghini and Sammy”s practical Range Rover. I”m even happy to see Coach”s all-electric pickup truck. It”s the vehicle he”s been driving while he waits for his classic car to be repaired, but if you ask me, I would take the truck in a heartbeat. I peeked inside one day, and that interior is seriously impressive.
”You ready?” Brant asks as he turns off the car.
”Ready to demolish the other teams? You know it. Teamwork makes the dream work, right?”
He lays his left arm over the top of the steering wheel and turns in his seat to face me. ”So you dream about teaming up with me?” His lips twist into what would absolutely set the world record for the sexiest smirk ever, if that sort of thing could be quantified. Which it obviously can, because I am quantifying the hell out of that smirk right now.
My face has to be a brighter pink than Kayden”s car. Yes, I have been dreaming about that. Literally every night since Dad”s birthday. I”ve had to recharge my vibrator twice in one week. Before that day, I could back myself off the edge by repeating his words ”just friends,” but not even that works now. ”Just a generic sports phrase. Unless you… I mean, everyone says that, right?”
”Yeah. Everyone.” The smirk disappears as quickly as it popped up, and for a brief second, I swear it looks like he”s disappointed. But he”s not. I know he”s not. ”Speaking of everyone, you probably haven”t met the WHAGs have you?”
”The what?”
”Wives, husband, and girlfriends. Our competition.”
”And where do I fit into that group?” I try to sound like I”m only teasing, but I really hope he”ll stare at me with those forested eyes, decide it”s foolish to think we could just be friends, and then lean across the center of the car until our lips meet. It will obviously never happen, so my hope instantly becomes hurt.
It does feel a little good, though, when I see his cheeks turn color to match mine. It”s good to know I can embarrass him if I want. ”You… you”re…”
”Absolutely stunning in this outfit.” I finish for him with a wink. It”s just a basic workout tee and a pair of leggings. Nothing glamorous. I”m sure the women Brant would actually consider dating wouldn”t be caught dead in this.
But he nods. ”You”re stunning in everything you wear.”
Oh.I didn”t expect the hole I was digging to suddenly be excavated with a ton of explosives.
”You”re the ringer. My secret weapon.” Brant seems almost relieved to have fallen on that answer. I am too. ”Kayden is the only one we really have to worry about. Every year, he brings a different woman. It”s just whoever he’s dating at the time. But every year, his team is good. Mostly because he can do everything well. So far, the girls he”s brought haven”t been athletic though. That”s his weakness. ”
”What if I”m just as bad as the girls he brings?” I tease.
”You”re not. Come on.” He almost literally hops out of the car. ”I evaluated you on our training day. Remember?”
I slide out of my seat and hurry to catch up with him. ”Is that what that was? An official Brant Morrison evaluation? I thought it was an excuse to take me out for breakfast.”
”Can”t it be both?”
”As long as there”s Nutella French toast, I won”t object.”
”I”m filing that away because I will use it against you if I have to. Now, let”s introduce you to everyone.” He reaches out with his right hand, and like a fool, I think he wants to hold my hand. Instead, he grabs me lightly around my arm and walks me to where the rest of the team and their partners are standing in a loose circle. Everyone looks at us as we walk up.
”I brought a complete stranger this year,” Brant tells them. ”Since none of you know her, let me introduce her. Her name is Lily, and she”s a trainer for one of the sports teams here in Salt Lake. Not sure which one. I didn”t bother asking.”
”Basketball,” I say. ”I work with a lot of real athletes there. Unlike you guys.”
Kayden raises his hand to his forehead and sighs with more drama than a teenager could even dream of. ”You smart asses are perfect for each other.”
He might as well have dumped an entire ice bath on my head for the jolt the words send through me. ”No. Not like that.” I shake my head. ”Just friends. Right? Right?” I look toward Brant, waiting for him to offer his confirmation, but his eyes are wide and he looks more shocked than I am. Of course he”s shocked at Kayden”s suggestion.
”I know I shouldn”t say this,” the man standing next to Nikita looks to his left and right like he”s about to utter a secret he doesn”t want anyone to overhear. ”But I”m glad you don”t have her this year.”
A couple other WHAGs nod their heads. So do Kayden and Nikita. I look around, searching for someone to clue me in, but no one does. ”Who”s her?” I finally ask.
”First things first,” Brant says, ”Lily, this is Zachary, Poppy”s husband.”
”It”s good to meet you,” I tell him. ”Is Nikita as quiet at home as he is at work?” Zachary laughs like the thought of Nikita ever being quiet is ludicrous.
”And the woman Zachary was talking about,” Brant continues, ”is Serenity. My ex.”
Oh.
”She was a bitch,” Zachary stage whispers. ”Brant didn”t see it at first, but the rest of us knew exactly what she was from the very beginning.”
I want to ask what exactly she was, but Brant already looks uncomfortable enough. And it”s not my business. It”s not like I”m dating the man. ”Well, I hope I”ll be a little better than her. But I still want to crush all of you today.”
”You think you can?” Kayden asks. ”Maybe we should get this started, so you can see exactly why I”m the defending champion.” Kayden does a stupid dance that looks like it”s either something from the 1930s or a children”s show. The others shake their heads and start walking into the park. When everyone is past him, he stops dancing and leans in close to my ear. ”You”re way better than Serenity. You”re good for him.” He dances again as he takes his partner”s hand and they weave through the others to the front.
”What did he say?” Brant appears so suddenly on my other side that I jump.
”Uh, you know how Kayden is.” He stares at me for a moment, and I think he”ll force me to say more. But when he puts his arm around my shoulders, I couldn”t say anything more if I wanted to.
”Come on, let”s kick his ass.”
The competition starts out easy enough. Two timed laps around a track. I wonder if Brant has been exaggerating about the events. This is just like a normal gym class in high school. At least, it”s what I assume a normal gym class would be. I was never allowed to participate in those. If that”s all this is, though, I”ll never be able to compete. There”s no way I can move faster than a group of professional athletes. All I can hope for is that I don”t slow Brant down too much.
But the next event is completely different. We move to a group of ten small tables set up in a small paved area on the other side of the track. Each one has a Jenga game, and standing next to each table is a member of the Sting support staff. Brant and I are assigned to the table worked by Monique. She”s in the advertising department. I”ve only talked to her a couple of times, but we give each other friendly smiles as we come up to the table.
We start in right away. Monique asks Brant a list of hockey trivia questions. If he gets the answer correct, I have to remove one block from the tower. If he gets an answer wrong, I have to remove three. Right or wrong, we get a time bonus for every question that he answers before the tower tumbles down.
The first questions are so simple I could answer them. They”re just about the rules of the game. But then she asks him who scored the most goals in a single season, what year the league was founded, even which team won the championship in 1983. I”m a sports fan, but these questions leave me clueless. Brant, though, answers them like she”s asking what he ate for breakfast. We make it through 27 questions before my tower collapses, and he didn”t have a single wrong answer.
”You are fucking amazing.” I don”t even try to hide how impressed I am. ”That”s literally genius, savant-level stuff, Brant.”
He shrugs. ”Hockey”s my life. When I love something, I learn everything about it.”
The way his voice deepens as he says it makes my chest tighten, and I need to change the subject before my body gets any stupid ideas. ”I thought it was maybe a secret Canadian superpower.
”You think we”re born knowing everything there is to know about hockey, curling, and maple syrup?”
”And those geese.”
”God no. Those geese are so evil, I swear they have to be American.” He smirks. ”Ready?”
We”re back to the track for the next event. One of the assistant coaches hands Brant and I each a toy bow and eight foam arrows. We”ll run the same two laps, but this time we have to stop every one hundred meters and fire at the targets. Four targets per lap, and we only get one shot at each. Every time we miss, we get a ten second penalty.
As soon as the coach starts his stopwatch, I sprint to the first shooting station. I took an archery class in college and loved it so much I joined the intramural team. This event is mine. I give Brant a confident nod as we stop side by side. My arrow is nocked and my bowstring drawn back before Brant even has his arrow in the right hand. I release and my arrow hits just outside the bullseye. Not perfect, but good enough. Brant gapes at me.
”Smooth and surprise,” I tell him. ”Keep all your movements smooth and keep your release a surprise. If you anticipate the release, your fingers shake. So don”t. Just aim and then let it happen.”
”Who the hell are you?”
I imitate his earlier shrug. ”I”m just a girl who can hit a moving target from one hundred yards away.”
”I”ll remember that in case I ever piss you off. Now run. Go win this for us, while I do my best to not lose it.”
”Just never piss me off. Remember, surprise.” I mimic releasing a bowstring before I sprint to the next station.
By the end of the second lap, I”m a perfect eight for eight on the targets. Brant doesn”t finish far behind me. I high five him as he hits the last target, despite the sweat running into his eyes. Sweat that I am so very tempted to wipe away for him.
”Missed three,” he says between gasps.
”That”s good.”
He bends over with his hands on his knees and lets his head hang. ”That”s a thirty second penalty.”
”Brant.” I pause, forcing him to look up. When he does, I point to the others. ”Look at them. Five out of eight is wonderful.” Milo is standing in the shooting area closest to us with his hands on his head after his arrow bounced in the grass barely halfway to the target. On the other side of the track, Sammy slams his bow down after he misses his shot.
He turns back to me and smiles. ”We do make a good team.”
I want to look away for self-preservation, but I can”t. There”s something about his look that always draws mine. It”s a hole I fall into every time. ”We make a great team.” Even if he doesn”t see it. ”Let”s finish annihilating these losers.”
”Fuck yeah.” He slaps me on the back and we jog to the field on the other side of the parking lot.
The last challenge is an obstacle course, just like I knew it had to be, but it”s not what I expected. I wouldn”t be surprised if a group of Navy Seals is waiting to use it once we’re finished. There are all kinds of ropes and tires and a wall that looks impossibly high, and none of it was here when we drove up. Do they have an entire hidden production crew that does this?
”Morrison. Richards.” Coach walks up to us. ”I hear you been eating the challenges like they”re cake. You think you can eat my cake?”
I glance over at Brant, but he looks as confused as I am.
”Well, what are you standing there for?” Coach blows his whistle three times. I hurry to cover my ears, but I”m not quick enough. He”s ten feet away. A full whistle blast hurts at that distance. Why does he even have a whistle today anyway? ”Get a move on!” He makes a show of starting his stopwatch and then gives one more whistle, just because he can.
Brant and I look at each other one more time before we dash to the first obstacle. A cargo net hung just above the ground. It”s longer than my dad”s living room, and we have to crawl under it. I drop to my belly and see Brant do the same. When we make it to the other side, I do a quick scan of the field. We”re still the only team here. Since we”re all timed individually, that doesn”t mean we”re winning, but it”s certainly a good sign.
Next up is a tire run. I”ve seen this countless times before. We”re supposed to run through it, stepping into each tire. The athletes I”ve worked with over the years make it look easy, but I”ve never tried it. Turns out, it”s not easy. Brant goes first. He takes a slower pace, but he doesn”t miss a single tire. When he gets to the other side, he turns back to me. ”You got this. Go slow.” I stare at the first opening, planning my route, which is obviously unnecessary because my route is a straight line and will go right, left, right left. Finally, I just go for it. I make sure to pick my feet high off the ground. That”s the point of the exercise, after all. My first three steps are almost perfect. I land in the center of the tire with each. But then I hear another team run up to the field, and I make the mistake of turning to see them. It”s Kayden and his partner. Shit.
I tell myself to move faster, still keeping my knees high, but on the fifth step, I snag the edge of the tire. I catch myself, but it throws me off. My next step misses almost completely, and my ankle rolls. It”s not bad, but it sends me tumbling. Despite being rubber, tires do not make for a very soft landing.
”Lily!” Brant is at my side before I even realize what”s happened. ”Are you okay?”
I move my foot in a quick circle and then look back at Kayden. They”re starting to go under the net. We only have a few seconds before they catch us. I have no idea how many time penalties they have from the archery biathlon, but I”m not taking a chance. ”Fine.” I push myself up, hiding my wince as I put pressure on my ankle, and finish the tires.
The next section is ten small stepping stones spaced far enough that we can”t step from one to the next. Coach is beside us now, explaining that there”s a ten second penalty for every foot that touches the grass between the stones. I guess that means we”re jumping them.
”What if I carry her?” Brant asks Coach. ”She”s hurt, so what if she hangs on to my shoulders while I jump the stones? She wouldn”t touch the grass.”
”Thirty second penalty for every stone she misses. What do you think, Richards? Can you do it?”
”No,” Brant answers at the same time I say ”yes.”
I glare at him. ”I can do this.” I have to. Michael won”t admit it, but I know Bridges needs this money. I won”t be the reason they don”t get it. Just like I won”t be the reason Brant loses the Charity Bee this year. ”I”m doing it.”
He looks like he wants to argue, but he wisely keeps his mouth shut and steps aside for me to go first.
This shouldn”t be hard. My right ankle is starting to throb, but that still leaves me with one perfectly fine leg. That”s all I need. Jump from my left. Land on my left. Easy. And just to prove how easy it is, my body chooses to land on my right foot on the very first freaking stone. I only make it five feet into this obstacle before I collapse to the ground with an embarrassingly loud yelp.