Page 78 of Twin Babies for the Pucking Billionaires

“Late again,” Coach’s voice booms. “And Axel’s still on that damn gum. You three, get over here.”

Declan and I exchange a worried glance and Axel just shrugs as if to say, “What’s new?”

Coach’s face is redder than a beet as he starts pacing. “You know the drill. Extra laps for being late. And Axel, you’re doing push-ups until I say stop. Clear?”

“Yeah, Coach,” we mumble, knowing there’s no arguing.

Declan mutters under his breath, “I swear, we’re going to end up running a marathon.”

We start our laps, my legs already aching from the sprint and my mind still buzzing from the morning. I try to focus, pushing through the pain as Declan jogs alongside me.

“Morning’s catching up with us,” Declan says, breathing heavily. “But hell, it was worth it.”

I laugh. “Yeah, it was. Just hope Coach doesn’t kill us.”

Axel, meanwhile, is on the ground doing push-ups with a look of resigned irritation. “Should’ve known better,” he grumbles between reps.

The minutes tick by painfully slow as we finish our punishment. Finally, Coach blows his whistle, signaling us to stop. We’re all drenched in sweat, but at least we’re done with the laps.

“All right, that’s enough,” Coach says, “Time to get serious.”

He gathers us together. The atmosphere shifts from punishment to focus as Coach lays out the game plan. He’s animated, pointing at the chalkboard with a fierce intensity.

“Listen up!” he commands. “This is going to be a tough game against the Seattle Storm Breakers. We need to be on top of our game. They’re aggressive, fast, and won’t hesitate to exploit any weaknesses.”

Coach starts drawing up tactical moves, detailing our offensive and defensive strategies. My brain, still somewhat clouded from earlier, tries hard to absorb every word. My excitement from the morning clashes with the seriousness of the game plan.

“Finn, Declan, I need you two coordinating perfectly. Remember, their defense is strong on the flanks. We’ll use that to our advantage,” Coach says, pointing directly at us.

“Yes, Coach,” we reply in unison, determined to make up for the morning’s screw-up.

Coach continues his lecture, drilling down on formations, set pieces and key players from Seattle. The intensity of his training keeps me grounded and I find myself snapping into focus. The excitement of the morning fades as I concentrate on absorbing every detail of Coach’s strategies.

The practice drills begin and we’re all pushing ourselves hard. My mind is racing, but the earlier thrill I felt from being with Millie still lingers. Despite the sweat and the soreness, I feel a rush of energy.

As the practice winds down, Coach gathers us for a final pep talk. “You’ve got to bring your A-game. I want to see you all working together, no more mistakes. This is our season. Let’s make it count.”

We all nod, feeling the weight of his words. The excitement is back, mingling with the fatigue and anticipation.

Declan gives me a tired smile as we finish up. “You feeling ready for this?”

“Hell yeah,” I say, grinning. “I’ve got more than enough motivation now.”

The team starts to disperse and I find myself floating on cloud nine. The morning with Millie might have thrown me off track, but now I’m pumped and ready for the game. The thrill of the season is back and I’m eager to show everyone what we’re made of.

As I head to the locker room, my mind keeps drifting back to Millie. The way she looked, the way she made me feel—it’s like a high that I don’t want to come down from. Practice might have been rough, but I’m feeling more driven than ever.

I slap Declan on the back as we leave the field. “We got this. Let’s show Seattle what we’re made of.”

He nods, his eyes reflecting the same determination. “Damn right.”

We are ready to tackle whatever comes next. The punishment was tough, but it’s made us more focused, more driven.

And with Millie’s memory still fresh in my mind, I’m ready to take on anything that comes my way.

The stadium’s packed, the roar of the crowd a constant wave of sound that pushes us to the edge. I’m pacing in the locker room, adrenaline pumping through my veins. The tension is thick, almost like you can touch it. Declan’s beside me, his face set in a determined line.

“Ready for this shit?” Declan asks, cracking his knuckles.

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