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“Yes, but…” I can tell she’s swaying.

“Or we could just leave your new client waiting”, I say innocently. “I’m sure he’s not filling out the customer satisfaction survey just yet”.

Sheryl regards me thoughtfully, then hands over her clipboard. “Take this over to reception. Follow these questions exactly, and then do a basic mobility assessment. Take some pictures. Stretch here, a lunge there. Nothing to it”.

I grin, take the pad, and haul ass across the courtyard before she changes her mind.

Will told me that it's not uncommon to see people arriving at all times of the day or night. Major league players looking to tune up between seasons. Overseas players keen for a crash course on a US pitch. Rehabbing players, looking to get fit and healthy in a positive environment.

If I gave even the slightest fuck about soccer, this would actually be a pretty cool job.

I push open the exam room door and set my face to professional. This can’t be that hard. “Good morning, my name is—what the hell—Carter?”

Carter’s sitting on the bench. He’s wearing a navy hoodie, tailored cotton cream shorts and a huge golden smile. His tousled quiff is lopsided in the morning sunshine, and he brushes it back out of his eyes.

From the way his jaw has dropped, he’s just as surprised to see me as I am to see him. We both start yapping at the same time.

“What the hell are you—“

“Here for the summer—“

“You didn’t say—“

“I didn’t know!”

“I can’t believe it! You’re a client?”

“It’s a long story. But, yeah. Surprise! Found myself in need of some rehab. My shoulder”, he adds, ruefully. “Plus, it’s a good opportunity to tune up my game. I got dropped from the European tour”.

Brandon’s here. At Summit. With me.

“It’s just for a few weeks”, he adds carefully, “If it’s a problem”.

“What? No”, I say, louder than necessary. “You just surprised me, that’s all. It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other”.

“It’s been about 72 hours, Di Rossi”.

“You know what I mean. Listen”, I’ve got a sudden urge to make him feel comfortable. “You’ve come to the right place. As much as it pains me, Simon’s really built something special here. You’re in good hands. And MLS scouts visit all the time”.

His eyes are shining. “That’s what I’m counting on”.

“I know Summit has always been a big deal for you”.

“You remember that?” I nod.Of course I do. It’s all he ever talked about. “And you’re really okay with us being here. Together?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I ask, focusing on my clipboard.

He looks like he wants to say something but thinks better of it. “I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other. Are you training in physical therapy?” He nods approvingly. “You must be crushing college if Simon’s letting you loose on his most promising clients. That’s how I’m categorising myself, by the way”.

“College is going really well”. I dismiss the flicker of guilt at the ease of my lie. “I figured I’d get some work experience under my belt before senior year”.

“That’s awesome”, he settles back, smiling. “I knew you’d be killing it”.

I never normally care what people think about me, but with Brandon, it’s different.

The thought of him finding out that I’m some loser who’s been kicked out of college for the same issues that almost got me kicked out of high school makes me feel kinda sick.

“I’m going to run through some basic mobility tests with you, then you’ll get a schedule with a trainer and, yes?” The corners of my mouth reach upwards, as Brandon raises his hand like we’re back in history class. “Mr. Carter. You have a question?”

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