Page 34 of My Pucked Up Enemy

I shake it off and grab my gym bag. The workout is calling, and I need to put my head somewhere that doesn't smell like citrus shampoo and bad decisions.

***

The weight room at the Acers' training facility smells like sweat and steel. It's familiar and comforting. Parker's already at the bench press, spotting Ethan, who grunts like he's lifting a small sedan. James is doing curls in front of the mirror like it owes him rent money.

"Look who's early for once," Connor calls, tossing me a towel.

"Not here for small talk," I mutter, wiping down the bench.

James throws his arm dramatically over Parker's shoulders. "Ladies and gentlemen, he's in a mood. Someone didn't get their oat milk this morning."

"I don’t drink oat milk."

"That explains the bitterness," Ethan grins, racking his weights. "Eat a real breakfast once in a while. It might help your mood."

"Unlike you assholes and your breakfast burritos, I treat my body like a damn temple," I say, loading a plate onto the bar.

Connor wipes sweat off his forehead. "Temple of doom maybe, judging by your face."

Parker snickers. "You know, now that you mention it, the whole 'discipline monk' thing you're rocking lately is giving off serious tortured hero energy."

James chimes in again. "You know, you might need to talk to Nina about that green sludge addiction. Could be masking deeper issues."

"Yeah," Ethan adds, grabbing his water bottle. "Maybe you need some extra 'sessions' with Hot Doc."

Parker elbows him. "She has a name, man."

"Yeah, and it starts with Hot and ends in Damn," Ethan adds.

I grip the bar tighter than necessary. My jaw flexes. Apparently not subtly.

James raises both brows. "Whoa. Easy there, gladiator. Look who just went full jealous ex-boyfriend."

"Shut up, Henderson."

Connor snorts. "Protective much?"

"I'm not protective."

"You just death-glared us over a compliment," Ethan says. "Pretty sure that's protective."

James winks. "It's okay, Chadwick. We know you're secretly journaling about her in cursive."

"I’m not writing in a damn journal."

Parker tosses me a med ball. "Relax. We're just messing. But seriously... she’s good. I didn’t expect to get anything out of it, but... she listens. Doesn’t feel like a lecture."

Ethan nods. "She actually got me thinking about the way I spiral after penalties. And that breathing stuff helped."

I grunt in response, catching the med ball and bouncing it once. I won't say it out loud, but they're right. Nina’s not just good at what she does, she’s dangerously good. She’s in your head before you know it, making you say things you swore you'd buried.

I hate that shit. And yet, I keep showing up.

The worst part?

I think she already knows why.

***

---