Page 118 of Over the Moon

“Well, you know what they say about making assumptions, Eloise. It makes an ass out of you and me,” he hissed.

“I’d say you’re handling that part just fine on your own.” I moved toward the door and then paused and turned around. “How did you even hear about the dinner? About my conversation with Ryan Weston? It seems like you’re keeping pretty intense tabs on me.”

My heart raced. Was he having me followed? Did he know about Clark coming to my condo every night?

“It’s my job to keep tabs on everyone that works with my players. So, I’d make sure you stay in your lane, and we won’t have a problem.”

“Sounds like we already do have a problem, and I have been in my lane the whole time.” I yanked the door open. “So now I’m going to go do my job, if you’re all right with that?”

“I’ve got athletes waiting for me, as well. Good talk.” He chuckled as he stepped in front of me and walked out the door.

I was still stunned as I made my way to the PT room. I worked with several athletes over the next few hours and shook off the conversation with Randall.

He was clearly threatened, but I would just keep my head down and do my job and hope he eventually stopped worrying about what I was doing and focused on his own job.

I made my way to the training room with Benjamin Adams. He was the starting right defenseman. He wanted to show me the way he was doing the leg press to make sure he wasn’t putting any strain on his Achilles muscle.

All the guys were just finishing up their strength workout, and the music was booming. “The Humpty Dance” by Digital Underground was playing through the speakers, and all the guys were in a circle around Clark, who was singing all the lyrics like he’d written the song himself. Weston and Wizz were dancing around like fools, and the other guys watched with big smiles on their faces. Benjamin’s head fell back in laughter as he stood beside me, watching. When the song came to an end, my gaze locked with Clark’s, and he winked.

It was difficult not to stare, as he was wearing nothing but a pair of sweatshorts. His chest glistened with sweat, and the muscles in his arms flexed as he reached for his water.

I could feel someone’s eyes boring into the side of my face, and I looked over to see Randall watching me.

I hoped he missed that little interaction, although he just accused me of being inappropriate with Sebastian, so hopefully Clark wasn’t even on his radar.

I walked over to him to let him know why I was there and asked if he’d like to observe Benjamin on the machines, as well, just to make sure we were on the same page.

“Yes. Thank you,” he said, and relief flooded that maybe this awkwardness would go away quickly.

We both stood and watched as the group of guys around us cracked a few jokes and finished their workout.

“Hey, Doc, why don’t you join us for happy hour in a little bit at the Lion’s Gate across the street,” Weston said, wiping his face with a towel. “It’s tradition to celebrate the end of training camp.”

“Yeah, Randall and your dad are coming. It’s tradition.” Wizz chugged from his water bottle.

Clark stayed quiet, and I noted the way Randall watched him before turning to me. “You should come. It’s team bonding, and you’re part of the team,Doc.” Randall accentuated the nickname.

I forced a smile. “Sounds good. I’ll be there.”

Randall’s phone vibrated, and he glanced at the screen and then walked out of the gym.

“All right, let’s go grab a shower so we don’t close the place down with our stench,” Clark said with a laugh before turning his attention to me. “See you there, Weeze.”

I left the training room and went to meet my father, who was just ending a call.

“Please tell me that you’re going to the Lion’s Gate,” I said, as I stood in his doorway. “I just got invited, and I’m not going unless you go.”

He barked out a laugh. “It’s a team thing. You’re going. Sebastian is going, too, which is new, because Wolf never went when he was running the show. But I think Sebastian wants to be more involved than his brother was.”

I closed the door and sat down in the chair across from him. “Randall knows that we went to dinner with Sebastian, and he seemed pretty offended that he wasn’t included.”

Dad arched a brow. “That’s not really our problem. That’s between them.”

“Well, I think he thinks I should have said something. He is my boss, after all.”

“Randall is old-school. He’s stuck in his ways and can be an arrogant prick, so most people tolerate him,” he said, keeping his voice low. “But he’s one of those guys who always keep score of what everyone else is doing, you know? So I’m not surprised he found out about the dinner.”

That’s the understatement of the year.

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