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“Yep. Like a fool, I applied for the open trainer position,” I tell her.
“Lexie, I know you want to work with your dad, but as a trainer? That is so beneath you.”
“I just… I thought if he hired me for that, maybe, just maybe, he would see how good I am and give me a shot.”
“He knows how good you are, Lex. He also knows how hot you are, which is where the problem lies. As always, he’s being the overprotective dad and trying to keep you safe. I think you’re just going to have to accept it for what it is and move on.”
Move on. Right. Easy.
Only it isn’t that simple. This thing with my dad has turned into a battle. A battle that I fully intend on winning—no matter what it takes. I will prove myself. Even if it kills me.
“That’s not going to happen, is it?” Abbie asks, a knowing smile on her face.
“Maybe. One day. Like when hell freezes over. Or, better yet, when I’ve won.”
“You damn Mastersons and your competitive nature. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Yeah, well, I got it from him, so you would think he would just give in already.”
“Know what I think you need?”
“A job with the Knights?” I supply knowing full well that’s not the answer she was looking for.
“You need a night out,” she continues, ignoring me as only she can do. “A night to relax, kick back, have a couple drinks. Dance.” She snaps her fingers. “You need to dance.”
“I’m pretty worn out from dealing with my dad. I’m not really up for dancing.”
“Please, Lex?” Her face is filled with hope and happiness as she clasps her hands together before her. “It’s been forever since we went out dancing.” She juts out her bottom lip.
“Oh, come on, that’s not fair. You know I can’t resist the pouty lip.”
Abbie rolls her eyes. “I know. That’s why I’m doing it.”
“Fine,” I say throwing my hands in the air.
Before I begin to get ready for our night out, I grab my laptop. Rumor has it the Ravens are looking for a physical therapist for their team. It’s not as though I actually want the position with them. No, I want the position with the Knights—the one I deserve. If I were to get hired though? Maybe that would show my dad once and for all just how valuable of an asset I am. Maybe then he will finally give me a chance.
I double check the application, the cover letter, and my resume before I hit submit.
Your application is being processed.
And now… we wait.
Chapter2
Carter
Pain.
Enormous amounts of pain radiate through my arm as the physical therapist demands I do another set of exercises.
“I don’t get it.” He’s staring at me intently, surveying me, trying to figure out why my arm, which had been improving by leaps and bounds, suddenly seems worse.
There’s a very simple explanation for it, which I have no intention of sharing with him. If I do, he’ll only tell Coach. And if Coach finds out? Like my grandmother used to say, my ass will be grass, and he’ll be the lawn mower.
Coach is already pissed at me. The recent bar fight I was in, the one where I used my injured arm to punch some guy who called me a pussy, would be the icing on the cake. Don’t get me wrong, the guy deserved it. He bumped into me several times, and several times I asked him—nicely—to back the fuck up. When I heard him and his friends talking shit about me, calling me a pussy, I lost it. Every ounce of fucking anger I’ve felt over the past two months came to a head. and I took it out on the guy. Ripping off my damn sling, I tossed it on the ground and charged at him. My right arm moved with an ease I didn’t anticipate, either that or my rage had been so intense, I just didn’t feel it.
A lot has changed since the accident two months ago. Where I was once a pretty easy going, fun loving guy I’ve instead been an angry, sullen prick.
