Elena: Oh. Not the lecture I thought I was going to get.
Colt: Yeah. If we’re going to build strength the right way, you need fuel. Real food. Protein. Carbs. Enough to keep up with the lifts I’m planning for Tuesday.
Elena: Lifts? Like what?
Colt: Heavy ones.Wear something comfortable.
Comfortable.
I stand, cross the room, and open the top drawer of my dresser.
I’m not sure I wantcomfortable, necessarily. I want something bold.
Something stupid. Something I haven’t even thought about wearing in months.
My heart pounds.
I take a picture. Not of me wearing it, not anything explicit, just a hint, a suggestion, a tease: black fabric folded on my bed, lace peeking at the corner, the implication unmistakable.
I send it.
Elena: Think Damien would have a problem with this?
The dots appear instantly.
Then:
Colt: Damien can fuck off.
My breath catches. He continues:
Colt: He doesn’t get a say. I do.
And then, one more:
Colt: And if you show up in that on Tuesday… I’m not guaranteeing I’ll keep my cool. I might insist we start our ‘casual’ thing right there in the gym.
My face burns.
My whole body burns.
I type:
Elena: Goodnight, Colt.
His reply comes like a controlled growl on a page.
Colt: Goodnight, Elena. Try to sleep :)
I stare at the screen.
Sleep is impossible.
So I decide to do a little more research. This time, my search is different.
Open Coaching Positions - College
Chapter Ten
