Page 58 of Twisted Ruck

"That would be perfect." He laughed again. "Although, it might raise some eyebrows. Nothing says 'subtle' like a T-shirt like that."

"On the other hand, no one would suspect anyone would wear that on a T-shirt if they really did it," I pointed out. "It might be the perfect disguise, out in the open."

"Now you're the wise one," he said. "I'll look into that. Would you like one?"

"I think I'll pass," I said. I opened my mouth to add something, but Mum called out first.

"Kids, dinner is ready!"

"Perfect, I'm starving." He tugged me to my feet and pushed me towards the dining table, laughing like we were children again.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Dallas

"How is the knee?"

"A little stiff."

I stopped out of sight of the doorway leading into the infirmary. I shouldn't listen in on another player's medical appointment, but I recognised both of those voices. Doctor Otis Skinner and Ramsey. Why would Ramsey see Skinner if he could see Chelsea?

I frowned, and went on listening.

"Have you been doing the exercises I instructed you to do?" Skinner asked. "They should help to ease the stiffness."

I grimaced. I wished they'd stop using that word. I'd come to see Chelsea because of a stiffness problem of my own. One that was rapidly deflating.

"Yeah, but it's still stiff," Ramsey said. "I've been putting extra time in, but I was thinking I could do more pool work. If it doesn't start to loosen up, it could put my season at risk."

Skinner clicked his tongue. "Wouldn't want that."

"Definitely not." Ramsey seemed unimpressed by his response.

Feeling like the mafia spy we joked about, I took a step forward and peered around the doorway.

Both men stood with their backs to the door. Otis Skinner's body was as tense as ever, but Ramsey looked relaxed. Like this man posed no threat to him in any way. Either he was a great actor, or he was up to something.

I couldn't rule out the possibility I was getting paranoid after everything I learned in the last couple of months. My gut told me otherwise. Something was up and I needed to stick around and listen, and not be seen.

I ducked back into the corridor and leaned against the wall. Silently, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and started to record the conversation.

"We can certainly have you do more exercises," Skinner said. "I've run through the ones your physical therapist recommended. I can add to that. And book you in for more time in the pool. You do significant aqua therapy in the off-season, correct?"

"Yeah, Never feels like enough," Ramsey said. "I could stay there all day."

"There is such a thing as over exercising," Skinner warned. "If you put too much strain on your body, or lose too much weight, it will have an adverse affect on you and your playing."

Now he mentioned it, I had noticed Ramsey working out more than the rest of us. Which was saying something, since we spent a shit load of time exercising.

Over exercising was something we all had to watch out for. Obsessing over food, weight and body image in general was dangerous for anyone, and a trap too easy for people like us to fall into. It could become an unhealthy obsession without us realising it.

"I'm aware," Ramsey said. "I still need my knee right."

"Yes, the long-term impacts could be adverse if we don't address them now," Skinner said. "Not to mention it might interfere with other plans."

"Not going to interfere," Ramsey argued.

"If you're sidelined, or sent to another team, it might," Skinner said. "Timing is everything. As I'm sure you're well aware."

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