Page 7 of Lose You Twice

“Good morning, you early morning workout freaks.”

Weston Cooper strides in wearing sweats, slides, and a grin wide enough to get him murdered before sunrise. His hair is a disaster, there’s still a pillow crease on one side of his face, and somehow he still looks like the kind of guy people forgive for existing so loudly.

Behind him, our goalie, Asher Hale, follows with considerably less enthusiasm.

Weston stops when he sees me with the sled, his face instantly morphing into a disgusted look.

“Oh, hell no.” He points at me. “Why are you already sweaty? We just got here, and we’re on time for once.”

“It’s called discipline,” I say.

“It’s called a cry for help.” He drops his bag and looks at Grayson. “Did he sleep here?”

“Not this time,” Grayson says.

“Disappointing. I had money on him crawling out of the ventilation system like a haunted protein shaker.”

Asher yawns. “Can we not do whatever this is before coffee?”

“Weights first,” I say.

Weston clutches his chest. “Captain, please. Some of us are delicate.”

Grabbing a towel, I wipe the sweat off my forehead. “You’re six-three and weigh two hundred pounds. Not exactly delicate, Cooper.”

“Emotionally delicate.”

I let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. Some days, I have the capacity to deal with Weston. Today is not that day. “Then this will build character.”

He points at me. “See, this is why people think you’re terrifying.”

“Good.”

“No, not good. It’s bad for morale.”

“Your morale will survive.”

“Barely.” Weston looks at the loaded bar, then back at me. “Absolutely not. That is too much weight for this hour.”

“For you, maybe.”

“For anyone with functioning survival instincts.” He points at me, then the bar. “You know, most captains ease their team back in after break. Maybe a little mobility. Some light cardio. A trust circle where we all say one thing we missed about each other.”

“Absolutely the fuck not.”

“See? This is the problem.” He drops onto the bench and starts tying his shoes. “You hear trust circle and immediately choose violence.”

“Warm up, Cooper.”

“I am warming up.”

“Warm up something other than your vocal cords.”

Grayson snorts.

Weston looks around the weight room, then back at me. “Actually, while we’re sharing, I’d like to say I missed absolutely none of you. Except maybe Grayson, because he brings snacks sometimes.”

“Which you’re not supposed to eat.” Grayson doesn’t look up from adjusting his wrist wraps. “Those are for Harlow.”