"So many buckets of balls in your future," he growled.
I could’ve sworn there was a hint of a smile on his face as we went to the workout area.
"All right, Alfred, you're done," I announced.
"Don't call me that," he snapped, getting off the weight bench. He wiped the sweat off his face and my mouth dried.
My posters really didn't do him any justice. Maybe I should spray them with water and try and get that just worked out gleam.
"Oh, come on. It's just us. Unless Jessica's still lurking about."
Trip scanned the workout room. "You don't think she's still here, do you?"
"No, you're safe. Dr. Bert made her leave when he caught her drooling over you during your reps.”
"She tried to get me to take off my pants for therapy."
Why didn’t I think of that?
"Oh, I'm sure it was a hardship for you. You get no sympathy from me. Jessica’s gorgeous," I told him, cleaning up the equipment.
"I can get gorgeous any day of the week."
"Ugh, so arrogant, Alfred. It's not becoming on you." I wiggled my finger at him and he grinned.
"It's not arrogance when it's the truth. Women fall for me, but that's the problem. I don't want them to fall for me."
"Yes, your so called bachelor for life decree."
"Stalking isn't becoming, Raine." He grabbed the weights off the floor and put them away.
"You're my coach. Of course I checked up on you." Arrogant ass didn't need to know I could rattle his stats off the top of my head.
His posters are definitely coming down when I get home.
"So you’ve never heard of me before today?"
"Only in comic books."
“Yet you knew what team I played for when you yelled at me to put my sling back on.”
“Well, I’ve heard of you in passing. I grew up in San Diego and you’re one of the older pitchers.”
"Not funny. Come on, I'll walk you out. I need to make sure you’re alive so I can kill you tomorrow in practice."
"I promise I won't die. I wouldn't want to miss a chance at torturing you on your next appointment."
"See you tomorrow, Raine."
"Night, Coach."
I climbed into my Explorer and started the engine. Trip climbed into his Dodge Viper, but the engine remained off. I waited, wondering if he was on the phone. When his car didn't move I killed my engine and went to knock on his window.
He glared at me and got out of his car.
"Are you sleeping in your car? Don't tell me you blew all your money. There aren't a lot of studies about the rate ABL players go bankrupt, but in other sports it’s a pandemic." I put my hands on my hips, ready to lecture him on his poor money management.
"Shut up, Raine. I have money." He glanced at his car like it had betrayed him.
