Chapter 4
Chapter Four
~DEX~
Ilaugh as Amelia scurries off to her room like a deer that’s spotted too many humans on their path. The door to her room snaps closed and I shake my head. Living with Amelia is definitely going to be interesting. I glance around my room to take in the view that she saw.
The navy comforter on my bed was just a quick purchase at Target, so that I had something covering the bed.
The same with the pale blue sheets that are beneath it.
The only pictures I bothered to put out are of me with my family and some from my football days.
And, of course, Jax, the lovable dog that I wasn’t allowed to bring with me.
I swear she kept Jax to hurt me. I could have fought harder to keep him, but I decided not to.
I caused her so much pain, I figured that leaving quickly and quietly would be the best way to let her heal.
And so far it’s not working out like I thought it would.
Sure, I have a place to stay and a new job.
But I’m stuck living with one of the players who obviously doesn’t want me here.
With no clue when I’ll be getting a place of my own.
I sigh and head back into the kitchen so that I can put our groceries away.
After sorting my purchases into neat piles, I begin putting some of the frozen meals I bought into the freezer.
I notice there’s no ice cream in there; I’m glad I bought some.
Maybe she’ll share a bowl with me one of these nights.
I’m hoping a generous scoop of Rocky Road will break the tension between us and make her more comfortable sharing a home with me.
I’m not sure how long I’ll be here, but I know this is her space, so I want her to know how much I appreciate her willingness, no matter how begrudging, to let me in.
My phone vibrates with a text.
August: How’s it going over there? Has she calmed down?
I smile at the message. He must have known that this would be difficult. Instead, I prefer the personal touch, so I pick up the phone and call him.
“Hey, man,” he says when he picks up on the second ring. “Still not a texter, huh?” he laughs into the phone, and I shake my head.
“Nope, never really did enjoy it. You know this,” I tell him, sighing. We’ve been friends since college; there’s a lot about me he knows. Like why I’m getting a divorce. August will hopefully be the only person in Tampa to know that secret.
He chuckles again. I can practically hear him shaking his head. “Fine, I won’t make you text me back. I simply wanted to make sure things were going okay.”
“Yeah, I think it’ll be fine. She seems to be calming down from the initial shock of it all.” I look toward the hallway where the bathroom door has just been closed. “It might have been better though, had she had more notice. I mean, you knew I was coming for a week now.”
“I know I did. But I kept thinking that we would find a place for you. I didn’t anticipate sticking you with Amelia. I knew it was a possibility but not my intended plan.”
“I know. But still, you could have warned her ahead of time. I was already here in her space when she found out about me. Not exactly the first impression I hoped to make,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck.
“But it’s okay now?” he asks sounding as if he wants me to agree.
I hear the shower water turning on, and I smile, glad she’s going on about her night. “Yeah, it’s okay now.”
“Good. Are you ready for your first day tomorrow?”
“I think so.” I sigh and then ask the question that’s been on my mind since I heard it slip out of Amelia’s mouth earlier. “What happened with the last trainer? I heard Amelia say something about them not showing up?”
“It’s not that he didn’t show up; it’s that we were sharing him.
My brother owns the Miami Marlins, and we were sharing a trainer until I could find one that fit our team.
And it just so happened you became available, so life worked out for us,” he asserts.
That cocky arrogance that he had in college is shining through.
Same old August. The thought makes me smile. Especially since I haven’t felt like me in quite some time, so some normalcy, even if it’s a smidge of it with August, is nice.
“Glad I could be of service,” I tell him. I tell him a bit of sarcasm and a lot of sincerity.
“Sorry you had to leave your cushy NFL job to come here, but the Blaze is going places. I know you’re probably more comfortable around football players, since you were one, but these girls are special.
You’ll see.” I can hear the pride in his tone.
Sure, being around the NFL had been great.
But it reminded me that I could no longer play.
That football life was behind me. So maybe changing to this type of football would be good for me.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for the job and the change of scenery. I wanted to find out if there had a been a revolving door of trainers or what,” I quickly explain.
“I know but you’re used to dealing with guys. We talked about having you work with the MLB team, but I didn’t want you on Drew’s team. I wanted you to come back and hang out with me. It’s a good environment here. I think you’ll like it.”
“Yeah, I’m excited to get started. Feels a little like the first day of school jitters or something,” I say, not entirely joking.
“Well, make sure you get a good night’s sleep. But don’t ask Amelia to pack you a lunch or anything. I’m pretty sure she’d cut your balls off for that.” August chuckles at his own joke.
I laugh along with him. “No doubt.”
“Tomorrow will be good. We’ll get you settled into your office, show you the facility and then you can begin checking over the injured. It’s game day, so you can see them in action as well,” he tells me.
I think for moment and then ask, “And what about the non-injured? Are you going to let me do baseline assessments of the girls?” I bite my lip. I think I know the answer to this question, but I’m going to insist upon it, whether he likes it or not.
“Well, when I hired Lucas and Cary as my original trainers, I had them perform those. There should be documentation of this somewhere in the training room.”
“Yeah, and I’m the head trainer, right?” I press.
“You are.” He says the words slowly like he’s about to explain to a child that it’s nap time.
“So, can I get a baseline of how I think the girls are?”
He sighs. I get the feeling he’s pinching the bridge of his nose right now, something I saw him do on more than one occasion in college when he was trying to concentrate.
“We’ll have to work it into the schedule,” he relents. “But remember it’s game day, so there will be a lot going on tomorrow. We’ll do it after.”
“Great, and understood about game day. I would really appreciate the opportunity to see where I think they are.” I try to soften a bit. “Besides, you hired me for a reason. Let me work for my money.”
He chuckles. “Will do, sir.”
I feel a sense of relief that he agrees to my plan, and a burst of confidence in my professional skills, when he continues.
“So, be at the facility at nine tomorrow morning, got it? You can meet the rest of the staff and the coaches. We can tell them together that the girls will be undergoing assessments again.” A bit of annoyance creeps in when he says that, but he pivots quickly.
“Then you can join them on the sideline for the game.”
“I’m sure they’ll be fine with it. Especially if they want to make sure the girls are healthy.”
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he says to signal the end of our conversation.
I click off the line and sigh into the empty kitchen.
Shaking my head, I make my way down the hallway.
A door to my left opens and I feel a burst of damp heat escaping from bathroom.
Amelia scurries out before I can alert her to my presence.
She is wrapped in a towel and making a sprint to her bedroom.
But she slips, turning around to instinctively try to grab her towel, and it falters.
I can’t help it, I freeze. My eyes drink in the sight of her.
Her skin is tanned, probably from being in the Tampa Bay sun for the past three months, I think.
I don’t have time to contemplate the how long it would take to achieve the ideal shade of tan because my eyes are too busy checking out the flat stomach and swell of her breast. They’re full and look like they’d fit perfectly into my hands.
My hands, which are itching to reach up and touch them.
My mental exploration of her body is cut short by her screaming at me.
“What the fuck are you doing? Why are you staring at me, you asshole?!” Amelia shouts. “Do the gentlemanly thing and avert your eyes!” She is feverishly working to keep the towel from slipping down her body again.
Fuck! “I am so sorry, Amelia. It was reflex.” I want to reach up and smack my own self in the head right now. How could I tell her that?
“What are you, some kind of pervert? God, how can you stare at me like that? I feel like I should charge you or something for that look!”
My eyes find hers. She’s managed to cover herself again with her towel. “Why would you charge me?” My brow furrows in confusion.
“Because you got a freaking peep show!” she shouts at me like it’s obvious.
“It was hardly a peep show. I didn’t see that much.” Why did I say that? God, I’m making this worse.
“I think you saw enough.” She huffs and hurries into her room, slamming the door.
I decide that after making a complete and total ass of myself, the least I could do is cook her something for dinner.
It’s game day tomorrow and while I was planning on having some instant mac and cheese while watching Netflix, a good meal for her is more important.
I begin by cutting up veggies and all the fixings for tacos.
It’s one of the only things I know how to make, and I really hope she’s a tacos girl.
The meal is almost completely ready when I hear her come around the corner.