Jupiter Reeveswasannoying.
“Sure you don’t want to admit we’re meant to be together?”
My fist clenched at the familiar heat working its way across my skin.
“You’re welcome for your gift, by the way!” he yelled at my back as I hurried off.
It was safer to shut the door to my office instead of replying.
Short, rasping breaths were all I could manage as I leaned against it. Rubbing my nose hard, I attempted to dislodge the scent of him I’d inhaled when I’d smacked into his sculpted torso, which was working its way up my nostrils to lay claim to my memories. That scent… like summer nights, bonfires on the beach, and warm kisses. I pressed against my temples to halt the onslaught.
Where was a decontamination shower when you needed one?
The clock said eleven thirty; tonight’s game began at seven. I had all afternoon to start work on the new plan, and more importantly, enough time to squeeze in a run because I now had a lot of latent energy to burn off.
More than I cared to admit.
“So talk me through it again. How’s this going to work, exactly?” asked Beulah.
Beulah, Lowe, and I were sitting in the back of a car en route to LaGuardia, where The Lions team plane was kept.
After my meeting with Penn and my collision with Jupiter, I’d taken a longer run than intended, and spent the rest of the day figuring out this plan and whether I could make it work. My figuring was done in between all the time I wasn’t thinking about Jupiter and the wall of sculpted muscle he now seemed to be built from. He may as well have been carved from granite.
I’d tried not to touch him, even pretend I hadn’t, but I knew my fingertips had grazed along an impressive set of corded abs when I attempted to maintain my balance and my hand slipped down his chest.
“Marnie?”
I shook my head and turned in my seat to face her better. “Sorry… well, there’s a theory that if you can make small, positive changes, then they all come together to make one big change. It’s the one percent improvement rule.”
“Huh.” Her lips pursed, concentration settling on her face. “That sounds cool, kind of like when you want to lose weight, you only eat half the cookie, and not the whole thing; almost like you’re deceptively dieting.”
I nodded. “Something like that.”
“Penn must be kicking himself that he didn’t come up with it first.”
I shrugged. “Maybe. He asked me how he didn’t already know about it.”
Lowe snorted. “Yeah, because he thinks he knows everything.”
Beulah joined in, letting out a loud laugh. “You think it’ll work?”
“I’ve been reading up on it, and there’s no reason why it can’t work. It seems to be kind of new in top tier sports, especially when there’s already so much money pumped in to ensure they’re at the top of their game already. But this could be the perfect opportunity to put theory into practice. The New York Lions aren’t at the top of their game, and it’s a brand new team. At the very least this could help them sync together, but that should then help them play together.”
Lowe let out a little groan, and we all knew why. It was only ten days into the season, and the high they started on was swiftly deflating after more defeats than they’d expected.
“They need it. They barely scraped the win tonight. I know I should be positive when they’re already playing much better than last season, but no one else has to live with Penn! All I hear about is why they lost, and what they should have done better.”
Beulah pulled her in for a consoling hug. “Surely that’s what Coach Chase is getting paid the big bucks for? Send Penn to him when he starts giving you earache.”
“Will it be bad tonight?”
Visions of the powernap I’d planned for the flight began floating straight into the night sky, and replaced with the visual of Penn Shepherd pounding down the aisle of the plane, pointing out every single thing we could have done better.
I’d had a tiny sample of it on Saturday when the boys had returned from their first away stretch, which they lost, but the massive win against the White Sox that day had stopped his train of thought.
There were four hours to go before we got to Miami, and I didn’t want to spend it listening to a lecture – especially as it was nearly ten-thirty p.m. already.
“Nope, we’ll get Lowe to shut him up with a little mile high action in the bathroom,” Beulah laughed, then huffed loudly as Lowe elbowed her hard in the ribs.
