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“See, this is the type of partnership we could have. Yin and Yang,” I said, gesturing between us. “I’m the ideas person and you’re the execution.”
Ignoring me, he read from his phone, “He said we’re fine to use it.”
“Great! Have you warmed up?”
Claude opened his mouth, searching for a reply.
“Stretch and give me a lap,” I said, indicating the circumference of the field.
Without a word, Claude went to work. When that was done, I took him through some of the things he would need to do in the workout. Despite taking two years off, he wasn’t bad.
His sprint times were still good for a quarterback. And his ability to change direction, although not what it used to be, wasn’t far off.
“Did you do any sports at all these last two years?”
“Depends. Do you consider getting coffee a sport?”
“Was it at Starbucks during rush hour?”
“It was on the back deck of your bed and breakfast.”
I stared at him with a ‘don’t be ridiculous’ look.
“Well, for a guy who has given up on life, you’re not that out of shape.”
“I haven’t given up on life.”
“Have you lifted anything heavier than a fork in the last two years?”
“I carried all of our touring equipment to our new office.”
I stared at him again. Looking away, I said, “I’ll take that as a no.”
It was Claude’s turn to be annoyed. That was okay because Claude always performed better when he had something to prove. And when, after a series of wind sprints, he was dripping with sweat, he whipped off his shirt.
God damn! He had been lifting something heavier than a fork. Because that man was ripped. Somehow he now had a better body than when he was the starting quarterback for a Division II championship team.
Getting aroused as I stared at him, I looked away. That helped downstairs, but my fair skin was no match for how I was feeling. Turning back around, I was glowing. Claude laughed… that bastard.
“How did your people ever end up stealing all that land?” Claude had once asked me. “Everything you think is written on your face,” he teased, having watched me turn shades of red. “No, seriously, how?”
“We can’t all have a perfect complexion like you,” I had replied, hinting at my true feelings for him.
“I wouldn’t say perfect,” he said, feigning cockiness.
Although I knew Claude had just been giving me a hard time, he had hit a sore spot. I envied Claude’s beautifully brown skin. If I could cut it off him and wear it, I would. I mean, I wouldn’t. But the man’s complexion was just so smooth and beautiful, while I was like a mood ring I was so pale. It was fuckin’ unfair!
“Rest up and do the sprints again,” I ordered, before heading to the bleachers.
Doing as I said, Claude collected his breath for another few minutes, and then ran again. It never took much to get Claude to work hard. He had always been ready to run until he collapsed.
Watching his strong body sprint from one yard line to another, I wondered if I was doing the right thing by having him workout for the team. He had yet to say whether he wanted this. I wasn’t even sure if he still liked football, or if he ever had.
He had to like some parts of it. No one got to be as good as he was without putting in hours that no one else saw. But why was he letting me put him through this now?
“What’s next?” Claude asked when he walked over, fighting for breath.
“Next is that you tell me that you want to workout for the Cougars,” I said stoically.
