Page 94 of Ignite

“Staytunedafterthenews as we listen to Professor Brock Samson from the Bureau of Meteorology explain how everything today relies on when the wind changes.”

Ethan

I’d left Rylee’s house an hour ago with no pride left.

I’d left my pride on Rylee’s front doorstep, along with the shredded flowers and herbal tea.

Seriously, I didn’t know what to do. If I stood there any longer, I’d end up knocking on her door, and the sight of her naked body wrapped in Darin’s shirt and her hair all bed-messed would probably land me in jail or therapy—okay, therapy and the unemployment line.

I couldn’t stay in a town where Rylee had reunited with her cheating ex. I’d drive myself insane stalking him and making sure he didn’t repeat his previous mistakes. As for my team, well, they had proven loyalty to Team Rylee and if she’d switched back to Darin, I had no place with the team or this town.

Driving aimlessly around Meringa, I wondered how long it would take before my ute stopped reminding me of her. I’d thought she had delivered me a project of love. She’d not only repaired the back panels from where she’d hit me, but she’d gone out of her way to fix all the little things. As well as patching up hundreds of dents and scratches, she’d fixed the blinking light I’d intended to get checked out—once I had enough spare cash to fix whatever it meant was wrong with the engine.

The smart money would have me pack up my worldly belongings—which still fit inside my ute—and get the hell out of town. But, where would I go? Mourning a relationship that had only ever happened in my head was depressing enough, but driving three and a half hours to sit and self-wallow at a gravesite?

Even I wasn’t that pathetic. At least, I didn’t want to be.

Action. I needed action.

I pulled over and made some calls. Ten minutes later, I had all the permission I needed to inflict hell.

Ethan to Hawks:Snap training. Wear sweats. Bring change. Meet school gym pool.

Screw them.

In the tradition of true Australian male bonding, if the Hawks were going to be my tribe, if we were going to give our all for each other on the field and in battle against the Bay Tigers and all other bastards, we needed to see what we were all made of. And if this was my bon-voyage to the team, then I intended to give them a training session to remember me by.

Less than an hour later, a dozen texts had threatened to remove my balls and have them fed to me through an intravenous drip—which I thought was a little extreme, to warnings about never trusting my football team to hold my beer while I took a leak.

I took each threat in good humor. Actually, their anger was fast becoming the highlight of my day. If my heart was going to be ripped out of my chest and fed to me piece by piece, then I deserved the right to make everyone around me suffer in the name of winning a championship.

“What the fuck?”

“Seems to be the common cry,” I laughed as Bailey was the last to arrive. He hadn’t treated the sight of his teammates, fully clothed in the shallow end of the 50-meter pool with any more enthusiasm than the rest.

“Jump in,” I said, just in case he needed a memo.

“I could go commando?” He dry-humped his hand but I didn’t even crack a smile. He needed to know I was serious as hell.

“As much as I want to see your dick, jump in.”

With all my team accounted for, I put the captain’s armband over my sweatshirt, retied the drawstring around my sweats, and jumped straight into the deep end.

I’d only done this training session once before. Then, it had been the last pre-season training and my team had been tight as a unit, fit, and ready to shed blood for each other.

Today, I wanted my team to become my family. I wanted to want to bleed for them. I needed to be so bloody exhausted by the end of the day, that I’d sleep without dreaming of her.

“To me,” I bellowed, ignoring the green pallor of Korbin and Trey. The two men could party hard and rock up to work, but could they bring it on the field? We were about to find out.

“To the middle.” My legs and core were already burning after treading water, fully clothed, for less than a minute. My feet felt like lead in my trainers, and my sweatpants were only holding onto my hips because of the tightened cord. Glenn hadn’t been so lucky, having to swim to the edge to redress and retie.

“Ten minutes.”

We all tread water for ten minutes. I knew what was to come and used my ass and core to work my legs, determined to save as much strength as I could in the areas I’d need it most.

One by one, my team spluttered below the surface, only to bounce back from the bottom and try harder.

“How… long… coach?” Bluey gasped, desperately trying to keep the size of a small whale afloat.