Page 20 of Spring Tide

“Look ... I don’t—I’m not trying to be harsh.” His eyes flit to a space above my head, voice dropping to a low murmur. “I just ... time is valuable to me. Next time, wake me up, okay?”

“Okay, I will,” I tell him, injecting my tone with false bravado. “Here’s your home program, by the way. I typed it up while you were ... resting.” I swipe the stack of stapled papers off my desk, jutting them out in his direction. “I’ll need to see you again in three days for treatment.”

He pauses for a beat. Then, slowly, he takes a step forward and gingerly plucks the papers from my hand. “Same time on Tuesday, then, after practice?”

“Works for me.”

His eyes search my face, settling on a spot between my forehead and the bridge of my nose. I think I might have a freckle there. Or maybe it’s a beauty mark. A mole, really.

“I’ll be here,” he says.

I spin on my heel, pulling my door open. “Okay, I’ll just ... walk you out, then.”

We walk in stilted silence down the hallway, him following my lead through the open living room. Once we hit the entryway, he stills, shifting awkwardly on the balls of his feet.

“Harper,” he murmurs, finally catching my eye.

“Yes?”

“Listen, uh, thank you for the ... massage. And thank you for this,” he adds, gesturing toward the slightly crumpled papers in his left hand.

A hopeless smile curves my lips. “Sure, a deal’s a deal. I—”

“Hey, you two.” My head swivels at the sound of Stella’s voice. She’s standing in the hallway, soaking-wet hair dripping onto the carpet beneath her bare feet. A white terry cloth towel is wrapped around her body—it’s tiny, thin, hardly containing her curvy hips and chest.

Luca audibly clears his throat, head dipping toward the floor. His jaw is tight, the apples of his cheeks a rosy shade of pink as he stares at his shoes.

“I’ll see you Tuesday,” he mutters, hastily pushing his way out of our apartment.

“Bye, Reynolds!” Stella calls after him, the door smacking shut behind him.

A giggle breaks free. “You’re evil, Stella.”

Her gaze flits down to her chest, then back up to meet mine. “God, he acts like he’s never seen a naked woman before.”

“Maybe he hasn’t.”

“You think?”

“Oh, um, I’m not sure, really.” I suppose it could be true, but it’s not my place to speculate behind his back.

“Nah, I bet he’s secretly a freak in the sheets,” she argues, a wistful look in her eye. “Standoffish during the day and wild at night.”

“Oh God,” I groan. “Go have sex with your girlfriend, you horndog.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

* * *

It’s Monday afternoon,which means it’s officially the first day of my internship.

The baseball boys are training in the gym today, lifting and running treadmill sprints. Unfortunately, their field is practically flooded, filled with a mixture of mud and standing water after last night’s storm—a common occurrence in September.

Apparently, according to my supervisor, most of the early fall season is spent off the field, anyway. It’s no sweat off my back. I get to spend the semester watching attractive men lift weights,andI get to stay out of the rain. It’s a win-win situation, especially during hurricane season.

Minh Le, their assistant athletic trainer, has spent the last five minutes introducing me to the team. I spotted Nate right away, of course, that curly head of dark hair standing out like a shiny beacon. He’s ungodly levels of attractive, from his full lips to his thick lashes to his veiny fucking forearms.

I doubt he caught me staring, though. I was discreet, professional even, as I secretly stalked him in the crowd. Now I’m standing alone by the water fountain, silently observing Minh at work. It’s my first day, after all, like syllabus week in the fieldwork world.

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