Chapter 4
1588 Words
four
Shayna
By the time afternoon hits, the players are out on the practice field. Most of the medical staff observe from the sidelines, keeping an eye out for any sign of weakness or injury that a player either isn’t aware of or is trying to hide.
The reality is that there are only so many open spots on the roster and it wouldn’t be the first time an athlete on the brink of making it doesn’t mention a tight hamstring or a sore knee. Part of our job during training camp is to look for that sort of thing and give input to our superiors. It’s all for the betterment of the team, but I feel like a snitch. I would hate to be responsible for someone not achieving their dream.
But the fact number forty-one keeps pulling up his left leg slightly faster than his right, as if it hurts when he bears all his weight on his left knee, isn’t what’s forefront in my mind.
As much as it irks me, Lee Burrows is consuming my attention.
Partly because I have to stand on the sidelines and watch him practice. It’s like I’m at a Chippendales show, because I’m growing hotter the more he sweats. It’s abundantly clear that the man is still a football god. It’s not like I didn’t already know, but seeing it live and in person is another thing altogether. I can’t keep my eyes off him long enough to pay attention to the other players. Lee moves around the field with such fluid movement and a commanding presence. Does he really have to lift his shirt to clear the sweat off his face? God, his abs are incredible. My thighs clench together at the remembrance of having him there.
I thought I’d put my attraction and lust for him to rest a long time ago, but apparently not.
I saw that quick flash of hurt in his eyes when he came to talk to Brady while I was working on him. It was a split second—there and gone—but for whatever reason, his expression has stuck with me all day.
When I saw him approach, I thought Lee was going to be all caveman, so I was surprised when he took my sign and pretended we didn’t know one another. There’s no pleasure on my part in hurting him. I just have to remind my subconscious that we hate Lee Burrows—no matter how hot he makes me.
I force myself to turn my attention elsewhere on the field just before Lee tosses a ball Brady’s way.
“It’s hard to look away, isn’t it?”
I startle at a woman’s voice next to me. She’s a petite brunette with olive skin, dark eyes, and dark hair to match, wearing tan dress pants and a black mock-neck tank. Must be some bigwig here.
“I’m sorry?”
She gestures toward the field. “It’s hard to look away from them, isn’t it? They’re all at the top of their game, in their prime… all that testosterone needy for somewhere and someone to unleash it on.”
I laugh and look at the ID around her neck. The wind has flipped it over, stopping me from reading it. I like to think I’m no longer as shy as I was in college, but I’m still reserved, and she’s clearly anything but. Not that she’s wrong. These men are the kind who can pick you up and f**k you against a wall without breaking a sweat.
She holds out her hand. “Bryce Burns. I write sports for the San Jose Chronicle.”
“Good to meet you. Shayna Kudrow. I’m an athletic trainer.” I accept her hand.
“You’re new.”
My cheeks heat. “Is it that obvious?”
She waves me off. “Not at all. I’ve covered the Kingsmen for the past three years and I would have recognized you.”
My shoulders relax. “I just moved here to take this job.”
“Good for you. Great opportunity, but still, it’s scary, right? At least that’s how I felt when I moved to take the job at the Chronicle.”
“Oh, where were you before you came here?”
“Idaho.” Her tone suggests I’d think less of her. “Go ahead with the potato jokes. Don’t be shy.”
“I won’t say potato if you don’t ask me about cheese.” I raise my hand. “Wisconsin.”
She chuckles. “Deal.”
I’ve always liked my home state, but it’s true that being surrounded by vast farmland and cows leaves you itching for more. “I take it you like California?”
Her smile transforms her face and makes her eyes sparkle. “Love it. There’s so much to see and do. The weather is almost always perfect. I don’t even mind the foggy days in the city.”
“Do you live around here or are you in San Francisco?”
That was one of the big questions when I moved here—would I live in the San Jose area, closer to the arena and training center, or base myself in nearby San Francisco? I opted, for financial reasons, to live in San Jose. San Francisco rent is insane and I don’t want to be scraping by to make ends meet.
“I pay a small fortune to live in San Fran, but it’s worth it. That’s where all the action is.” She grins, and I’m instantly attracted to her personality and want to be her new best friend. “What about you?”
“I’m in San Jose. Would’ve liked to be in the city, but then I’d be forced to maintain my college student diet and I enjoy my expensive lattes too much.”
She laughs. “I hear you. Believe me. Every month when my rent clears my bank account, I cry.”
We both laugh.
She studies me for a moment then says, “What are you doing this weekend?”
My head draws back.
“Any chance you might want to come into the city for some fun?”
I continue to stare at her.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Her forehead wrinkles.
“Sorry, it’s just… you don’t even know me. Is this some reporter thing where you befriend me and try to get me to spill dirt on the team?”
We’ve been warned about talking to the press. If they ask us questions, we have to keep our responses noncommittal and not say anything about any of the athletes’ health.
She laughs so hard she’s folded over at the waist. When she straightens, she looks at me with a smile. “Not at all. In fact, we don’t even have to talk about the team if you don’t want. I just figured you’re new in town and you probably don’t know a lot of people. I remember how lonely I felt.” I eye her skeptically, and she holds her hands up in front of her. Damn Lee for making me insecure about people’s intentions. “I swear. I have some colleagues I consider acquaintances, but I’ve never really connected with anyone around my own age since I moved here a few years ago. And I thought you might have the same dilemma here among mostly men.” She eyes me and I giggle. “Who knew making friends as adults was so hard? I briefly thought I might need a kid, but I’d be that lady with a baby at a nightclub, grinding.”
She’s right about that. Dating is hard, but I swear, making friends is even harder.
The tension leaves my body. She’s just looking for a friend like I am. “Sure, that sounds like fun.”
“Awesome. What’s your cell number? I’ll add you to my phone and send you the details.”
We exchange numbers and a warm feeling spreads through my chest. I’m hopeful I’m on the way to having my first friend in my new hometown. Especially someone as outgoing as Bryce. I need someone to pull me out of my introverted ways and force me out of my comfort zone from time to time.
“Perfect.” Bryce slides her phone into her cross-body bag. “I’d better go get some quotes, otherwise my editor will have my ass. Looking forward to this weekend.”
“Me too.”
She gives me a small wave and heads down the field to where some of the players are huddled on the sidelines.
I can’t stop smiling. Things are better than I expected for my first day.
“Heads up!” someone screams.
I look to the field where Brady is rushing toward me with his arms out. I step aside as the ball whistles past me.
Brady comes to a stop in front of me. “Sorry, Shayna. Burrows thinks he’s on the playground.”
Someone behind us tosses him the ball and he jogs back onto the field with it. My gaze goes to Lee, who’s staring at me, but I can’t make out his expression because of his helmet. Doesn’t matter though. That man has epic control of the ball when it leaves his hands, so he threw it in my direction to get my attention. How immature.
Maybe things aren’t going as well as I thought.
- Writer
