Page 14 of Where We Belong

“Not that I know of, no.” Mom tsks. “Poor girl, getting dropped by her coach like that.”

So she’s truly coach-less.Dropped.She must’ve done something pretty bad to be getting dropped at that level, and a year away from the Olympic trials.

“Anyway, why are you asking? Did she catch your eye?” I’m sure she’s wiggling her brows to herself now.

“Nah, it’s not like that. I just… I was wondering what was up with someone being in the gym at midnight.” No need for my mother to know about the Italy incident. I’ve been embarrassed enough about it. Plus, it’s not like I have a true good reason for asking. I’m nosy, and she’s the first new person this town has seen in a while.

“Oh. Well, there, you got it.”

I walk to the yoga ball I sometimes use as a chair when I’m feeling antsy and bounce on it once, twice. “This could be good for the gym, you know. If she makes a name for herself, then she’d make a name for you too.”

“You’re right. And she’s a nice girl, so I’m rooting for her anyway.”

“Yeah, me too,” I say, already coming up with ideas for the gym, if this actually came to fruition. It would bring young girls from all over the state. We could host clinics and meet-and-greets and fundraisers. I might already have a job here, but I’d never hesitate to throw in some hours at the gym too if it could help my mother.

“All right, then. Have a good day, Mom. Love you.”

“Love you too,” she says before hanging up.

I bounce a little more before returning to my chair, still feeling jittery. I might have gotten some answers, but I feel even more intrigued than before.

And if there’s one thing any person who knows me would say, it’s that when I get stuck on something, there’s no way to pull me away.

I barely have one foot out the barn’s door when I’m hit by something, the force strong enough to propel me on my ass.

“Jesus. Again?” I grunt. It’d be very appreciated if I could stop falling to my butt every time our paths cross.

“Oh god, are you okay?”

I look up to find Lexie lying in a position similar to mine on the ground, her face flushed, large brown eyes on me.

“I’m so sorry,” she says. “I was running. I didn’t expect anyone to come out of there.”

I push myself to a kneeling position, groaning at the pull in my back. “Are you made of steel or what?”

She tries not to laugh, but the twitch of her lips gives her away. It’s the first time I’ve seen so much as a hint of glee in her face since she figured out who I was, and it’s enough to make my lips curl in response.

“Maybe that’s a sign you need to bulk up,” she says.

I bark out a laugh. “Bulk up?” My gaze drifts down my own body. At six one, I might not be the largest man alive, but I’ve never thought of myself as needing to gain some mass. This body allows me to chop and lift tree after tree during the holiday season, and I’ve never had any trouble with it either.

“Why not?” she says, now also in a kneeling position. With October right around the corner, the ground is cold and the air crisp, but she doesn’t seem to mind one bit. “Maybe you would have been able to stay on your feet if you’d had a stronger core.”

I chuckle, then get to my feet. “You’re funny when you want to be.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

I offer Lexie a hand, and she goes to take it, but midair, she freezes, then shakes her head and gets up by herself.

As she wipes her leggings-clad butt, I say, “You didn’t make me fall because you’re stronger.”

She blinks. “Oh, was it my invisible aura that made you fall, then?”

“I don’t know what it was,” I say.

She stares at me for a long moment before she shakes her head. “I can’t believe it. You don’t believe I’m stronger than you?”

I close an eye and wince. “Sorry, but I know you’re not.” She’s what, five two, 130 pounds? I could probably bench-press her.

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