Page 6 of Going for Two

This wasn’t the first time I had heard someone describe Nolan Hill like this. There were whispers among the professional sports world that Nolan had grown angry after his injury, or even bitter, but I thought differently. I had watched countless games that showcased his mishaps and his reactions full of anger afterward—the helmet throwing, the yelling, the looks of disappointment. To me, Nolan Hill wasn’t angry or bitter … he wasdesperate.

“Thanks for the heads up.” I raised the folder of information up as one last acknowledgment before I went to tuck it away in my office. As soon as I was behind my office door, I flipped the folder back open and met the pair of intense brown eyes.

I believed Nolan was desperate because he was afraid of the end. Desperate I could work with. No matter how off-putting Nolan may try to come off, desperate meant he would do anything to succeed.

I had spent part of the last week poring over the routine that Roger had for Nolan while tweaking it to incorporate some exercises I felt would benefit him on the field. I pulled that plan out of my bag and laid it on my desk next to Zeke’s notes. Roger had mentioned that it was hard to get Nolan in the training room, but I figured if he wanted this bad enough, he’d show up.

A knock sounded on my door, pulling me from the rabbit hole I often went down when I think about one of my athletes’regimens. I looked up to find the same intense brown eyes I had just been staring at. Those eyes were set in a tan face that still had some color from training camp and the preseason games that made him look almost rugged. The lines of his face were pronounced—sharp cheekbones and a jawline that would have women lining up around the block for a chance to see—there wasn’t an ounce of baby fat left on his face. His shoulders were broad and stretched nearly from one side of the door frame to the next. He wasn’t as muscular as his running backs or his defense. He was long and sinewy with a muscular build that he had honed over the years to be a machine on the football field. But it was those brown eyes I couldn’t stop looking at. They looked at me with a hardened gaze—as if he were annoyed that I was standing in front of him. The Nolan standing in front of me wasn’t the guy in the picture on my desk that looked at the camera with eagerness.

Neither of us said anything at first as we sized each other up. The quiet grew heavy the longer it went on without either of us being willing to be the first to speak.

I watched in fascination as a muscle jumped in his jaw before he finally conceded whatever standoff we were in. I tried to keep the smile off my face when I realized I had made Nolan Hill uncomfortable. Which was fine in my book. I was here to break the cycle that occurred during last year’s season, which included his old routine with Roger.

“I’m Nolan Hill.”

Straightforward. To the point.

“I’m Dr. Charlotte Thompson.” I managed to stand from my desk and walk across my office to extend my hand to him despite the pressure I felt lingering in the room. I’d never felt anything but confidence when it came to my job and one athlete that wasangry at the world for something that happened to him wasn’t about to stop me.

Nolan’s large hand wrapped around mine, dwarfing it. His palm scraped against my palm as he squeezed my hand with what I personally thought was intentionally more force than necessary.

If he thinks he can intimidate me into whatever form of submission he has in mind, he’s sorely mistaken.

“I presume Roger gave you the details of my routine?” If I knew Nolan Hill better, I may have thought I saw a flicker of fear in his eyes as he waited for my answer. His voice told a different story, however. It was one full of superiority and authority. The message was clear in that single question.

You will not change the status quo for me.

“He did.” I chose my words as carefully as I could. I was already painfully aware that this working partnership was like a field full of landmines that I’d been told to walk through without a map.

Nolan sucked in a breath before letting it out slowly, his shoulders sinking down away from his ears. His eyes searched my face. His hand still gripped mine. I had this odd feeling that I was being observed by a lion that was trying to figure out if I was a gazelle. I slowly took my hand back from his without breaking eye contact.

Whatever observation Nolan had drawn from me, it must have been sufficient. He backed out of my office doorway, giving me space to walk out into the training room after him.

There was one thing that Nolan Hill needed to learn about me though: I could be just as stubborn as he was when it came to my job.

“I have some tweaks to Roger’s plan,” I told him as the two of us stopped at one of the training tables. Nolan didn’t say anything as he slid out of his sweatpants and onto the table in a pairof shorts that landed mid-thigh. Muscular thighs flexed as he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

Defiance flashed in Nolan’s eyes before he told me, “I’m not sure adding in anything new the week before a game is the smartest idea.”

I had to restrain myself from putting the heat pack down on Nolan’s knee with more force than necessary. One of my biggest pet peeves was people questioning my decisions. I hadn’t spent an exorbitant amount of money on an education for a degree and title to prove my competence to have someone tell me that I didn’t know what I was talking about.

“With that mindset, you’ll never make any changes to a routine—even if it’s needed.” Nolan’s eyes narrowed as he watched me set the electro-stimulation machine to the appropriate settings. I could tell he wasn’t used to someone pushing back on his judgement.

Not so fun, is it?

“I just think a seasoned professional would understand the potential hazards of making changes to a routine so close to a game day.”

Seriously?I looked up at the heavens above me.You give me my dream job and then force me to deal with this asshole?

“Well, since we’re both seasoned professionals in our craft, I’m assuming you know that Kurt Russell with the New York Gladiators has a meeting every Monday with the Gladiator training staff to reevaluate last week’s plans to make sure they will suit the upcoming week.”

The silence that followed my statement was loud. I had a feeling throwing out the quarterback that he was often compared to would do the trick. Nothing worked better than using an athlete’s competitive personality to your advantage.

Nolan grabbed the remote from the table next to him and turned up the volume on the television in the training room.

I bit my tongue as I formulated a plan. I’d let Nolan have this week to do whatever he thought was best for himself before I challenged him again. Nolan watched me with a scrutinizing stare as I placed the pads on the proper area to stimulate the muscles around his knee and prep them for the movement they were about to do during practice.

The doors to the training room slammed open and a tall man who was more muscle than man burst into the room, with a shorter man following closely behind him.

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