Page 7 of Possession

But Justin leans forward and gets in my face. “I could do that,” he says. “Or you could be reasonable. Working with the swim team will allow Olive the real, hands-on experience she needs to get accepted into a graduate athletic training program. With funding,” he adds and glares at me. “Do you really want to deny her that opportunity so she can rub a foam roller on your legs every afternoon?”

Son of a bitch. I hate this fucking guy. I can’t think right now, so I flop on my stomach and glare at him while whats-her-name gets working on my back.

“Hey,” Scotty says to me from where he’s sprawled on the table next to me getting worked on by another trainer. “Be happy for Olive. This is a good opportunity for her—right?”

I don’t say anything. On the surface, this looks like a win for her. But I’m uneasy, because I know what I saw last night. I don’t know what Justin’s game is here, but I don’t fucking like it. Plus now I have to figure out how to make it clear to the swim team that my girl is off limits. This year was supposed to be easy for me outside of football.

Lift hard. Hit hard. Run hard. The rest is supposed to be cake. I just have to make it through the draft combine this spring with no drama.

I sigh and try to relax, except Beauty Mark goes a little rough on my hamstrings.

After I get stretched out and given the green light, I catch Olive’s eye. She waves at me while she’s checking out someone’s arm. I hate how much she has to have her hands on all these shirtless dudes. They’re not stupid. They know Olive is hot as hell, even if she has no idea. She’s all blonde waves and soft curves.

Curves that no guy here—including me—should fantasize over.

Olive doesn’t need me destroying her dreams. I’m not the only one with goals. She left her parents behind to drink themselves to death and hasn’t looked back. She’s applying to the best graduate programs in the country and she’s always talking about what experiences she needs to look good for earning funding.

But fuck if I’m going to be functional right now. I’m too worked up.

“Scotty,” I shout over the noise in the locker room. “I need to get laid.”

“Yeah, man, you fucking do.” Scotty claps me on the back and we head to the bars. I need to clear my head or I’m going to burst. Or hit someone. I try not to think about Olive’s confused face as I blew out of the training room—I know she heard me say that I’m on the prowl. I’ll check in with her tomorrow and everything will make sense again.

Finnegan and JT are already at the bar when Scotty and I roll in. The guys from the team are sprawled around a table near the bar, and word has gotten out that the SCU football team is in the house. The place is packed, and it seems like everyone is trying to come up to us. With his injury, JT has attracted double the number of jersey chasers looking to nurse his wounds. In no time, I’ve got a drink in my hand and a girl on my lap—some redhead in little shorts who wriggles around too much.

I wouldn’t even need to try to get her to go with me into the bathroom. It’s what I usually do. It’s what I came here for. But something just feels off. I don’t know if it’s because I didn’t get enough sleep last night or if I’m just pissed that Olive will be with the swim team this season instead of with me where she belongs.With me…I don’t even let myself think about her that way.

“Hey, sweetheart,” I say to the girl on my lap. “Can I get you to shift over to a seat? I think I really hurt my leg today at practice…”

She doesn’t get the hint. She coos up at me and starts trying to massage my leg with her tiny hands, poking at my thigh. I excuse myself to use the restroom, and as I’m coming back to the table, I see she has moved on to someone else.

I sigh in relief, and then feel an overwhelming urge to get the hell out of here. Something must be really wrong with me if I don’t even want to stick around here. I catch Finnegan’s eye and tilt my head toward the door. He nods and I head home. Hopefully this weird mood I’m in is all due to me being tired. I climb into bed in my clothes, and only then do I realize I never texted Olive tonight to check on her.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Olive

I COME HOME from my shift and turn on the TV, waiting for a text from Bax that he’s coming over for a snack. I need to talk to him, see if we can figure out the best thing to do about the training room.

On the one hand, Justin is totally right. This experience training the swimmers is going to be amazing for me. On the other, I can tell that blindsiding Bax and pulling me to a different team with no notice once the semester has already begun is…off.

I think back to the other night at the bar and I feel uneasy. I wish Baxter were here so we could talk it out. When he has food and a couch, he can usually stay calm and help me talk rationally about my problems.

Of course, my problems don’t usually affect him like this one does.

Can you comeover? Ihate feeling clingy and texting Bax like this, but I also really need to talk this through with him. I wait an entire episode ofReal Housewivesand my message is still unread. I sigh. I need to talk to someone about this or I’m going to go insane.

I bite my lip. I’m not really friends with anyone other than Baxter. I talk sometimes with Julia and the other trainers, but I don’t have any girlfriends.

It’s not that late, so I decide to crack open my door and see if the girls across the hall are home.

Feeling like a creeper, I peer into the crack and I see that their door is open and they’re watching TV. I back up and rummage in my closet for a jar of animal crackers, and then knock on their door frame. Tia and Elyse look up and their faces brighten. “Hey, neighbor,” they say. “What’s up?”

I hold out the jar of cookies. “I brought sustenance. Is it ok if I hang out?”

Tia nods enthusiastically, reaching for the animal crackers. Cramming a few in her mouth, she pauses the show and asks, “What’s up? You don’t usually hang.”

I swallow. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I guess I’m shy about talking to people I don’t know very well.”

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