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I drop my pencil on my client schedule planner, chewing on my bottom lip.
“So...how'd it go?” I ask, my lips stretching into a pained smile.
I know exactly how it went. If the rumors are true, Lake is a depressed, egotistical nightmare. A gloomy, miserable, broken-down mess of a football star. One who's been the best of the best, only to be told to hang up his towel and live for the past. This kind of injury for a running back is discouraging. I've heard the sports reports. Reporters are brutal.
Jaden turns his glare on me.
I sigh. “I'm sorry J, I thought maybe he'd be better with you. You're a lovable guy, great P.T.” I shoot him another pained smile.
He scoffs. “Nice try, Dyl.”
“What is going on?!” Greg interrupts us, popping his head through the door.
Jaden looks at me and winces, not wanting to get me in trouble, before turning his gaze back to Greg. “Lake's being a little difficult to work with, is all.”
Greg's brows knit together before he focuses his glare on me. “You pawned him off on Jaden?”
Weak smiles and shrugs are my thing now.
“Oh, c'mon! Suck it up Dyl, you're a professional! Besides, I thought this opportunity would be great for you. Don't make me take away your other clients to force you to focus on him.”
“You wouldn't.” I plead with my eyes.
He cocks a brow and folds his arms over his chest, leaning back against the wall.
He would.Prick.
“He didn't request the physical therapist who brought Ashton Connely back to the field in nine months for no reason. Now, get out there and work with him before you give my gym a bad name!”
Of course, that's why he's here.
I look at Jaden for some sort of support, but he only shakes his head and turns away from me, continuing to pack his bag.
I turn back to Greg, giving him my hardest stare. “I'll remember this when the new Mix N' Chop drops onto the market this winter. You aren't getting shit for Christmas.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. We all know you turn into a little elf around the holidays. You'll forget in no time.”
There's just no getting out of this. I'm forced into it. I'd put up more of a fight if I didn't know for a fact I'd be getting paid extremely well to take on this little basket case. And money is whatweneed.
I take a deep breath, leave the staff locker room, and walk the four longest yards of my life over to the main gym area to greet the man of the hour.
Lake motherfucking Decker.
2
Lake
Theworstpartwasthe sound.
I heard it as it echoed throughout my skull, bouncing back and forth between my ears inside my already shattered mind. Helmet or not, I could literally hear my knee pop, breaking everything I'd built in one tiny fraction of a second. I knew in that moment, my ACL didn't tear, my fucking heart did.
I was on the run, just receiving the hand-off. With my versatility and speed, I made my way past two linemen, slipping through like water in a strainer. Nothing could stop me.
I was moving, like I do, giving a quick spin to throw off another one with the ball secured in the crook of my arm. At the 20-yard line, I saw the end zone right in front of me, only a small push to run it in. The crowd was roaring. They knew what I was capable of just as well as I did.Lake Decker, best rookie running back in the league.I was a fucking beast on my way to becoming a legend.
Key word—was.
How I let some punk safety surprise me with a tackle is beyond me. With my leg firmly planted, he took me out at the worst possible time, bending my knee inward as I heard the pop.
