Page 121 of False Start

“A lot like being a technician,” she said, her face breaking into a grin. “Ask me again when I get paid. What did you get up to today?”

I shrugged. “I hung out with some rookies. They’re preseason training starts before the veterans, but I’ve been hanging around the stadium, anyway. I helped run some drills with the newest wide receivers.”

“Sounds like fun.” She clicked her teeth. “Too bad none of them will get their chance on the field anytime soon.”

While I’d been on the straight and narrow all off-season, I’d also been dodging the coaches and trainers for anything but training plans. But I loved her confidence, and I’d do anything in my power to be the man she saw in me.

“We’re here!” Kit took the cooler from my hand and set it on the ground next to a set of monkey bars.

“What’s this, exactly?”

We had walked behind the hospital to an area illuminated by overhead street lights. In the distance, a group of women in scrubs walked along the paved path. In the distance, a man in a janitorial uniform performed chest flies on a raised metal bar.

“It’s a track!” She fished a stopwatch out of the cooler with a wildly infectious smile that, even as my stomach dropped.

“What are we doing on a track?” I asked, my heart already knowing the answer.

“I’ve never seen anyone run a sub-four-point-three second forty-meter before, and I happen to know someone who’s very fast and can’t say no when I ask him to show me.”

“I can say no to you.” Running my hand across her waist, I ducked my face close enough to smell cherry lip balm. “I say no to you all the time.”

I kissed her neck, smiling when her eyes closed and her hands instinctively wrapped around my shoulders.

“But,” I said, pulling away. “It’s our first date, so I’ll say yes.”

Her honey brown eyes fluttered open, a slight tinge of pink on her cheeks. “Thank you for being so amenable. It’s very unlike you.”

I grinned. “You know, if you’d let me pick out the date, I would have taken us to a nice restaurant, maybe a show. Not a workout.”

“Well, I look forward to a nice restaurant on our second date.” She gave me a playful slap on the ass. “But for tonight, warm up. I want to see how fast you are.”

I relented. I’d learned long ago that changing Kit’s mind wasn’t my strength, and besides, she was right most of the time, anyway.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, dropping into a hamstring stretch.

“Oh!” Kit grinned and her entire body shook. “I like the sound of that.”

She fiddled with the stopwatch while I warmed up. A man in a thin tracksuit slowly jogged by us, waving as he passed.

“You know this isn’t accurate, right?” I asked, sinking into my heels.

Kit set her first on her hip. “Are you doubting my ability to use a stopwatch, Texas? Of course it’s accurate. There’s even a start and a finish line.”

I eyed the hastily spray-painted lines, toeing them with my shoe. “Did you vandalize your work track for me?”

“Of course not.” She pursed her lips, holding back a grin. “But there is a guy on the maintenance staff who owed me a favor. I hadhimspray paint it for me.”

“I’m sure it’s incredibly accurate, then.”

“He had the measuring wheel and everything. Even pointed out that it should be on the flat part of the track.”

I nodded. “That is important.”

“Now, let’s see some NFL Hall of Fame caliber running.” She held up the stopwatch. “Tick, tock, Texas!”

I dug the toe of my sneakers into the rubber track, hunching down, fingers tented on the ground. “Count me down!”

“Three, two, one, firing pistol!” Kit shouted.

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