Page 15 of Over the Moon

It made me irritated with both him and my lack of self-control.

“Stop calling me that ridiculous name.” I huffed past him. We’d fallen into a routine these last few days, where he liked to annoy me, and I liked to let him know how irritated I was. “And how about we start with a shirt on, yeah?”

He chuckled as he followed me down the hallway to the gym, walking so close that I could feel his warm breath on the back of my neck.

“I was outside pulling some weeds this morning,” he said. “It’s already hot as hell.”

Once we were in the gym, I turned around to face him. “You’ve already been landscaping this morning? Don’t you have help with your yard? It’s massive.”

“I do. I have a guy. But I like being out there. I planted half of those trees in the backyard. Obviously, when I’m in season and living in the city, I can’t keep up with it, but when I’m home, I like to get my hands dirty,” he said, and for whatever reason, Clark Chadwick talking about getting his hands dirty sounded hot as hell.

“Interesting. I wouldn’t have guessed you a guy who enjoyed yard work.” I pointed to the table, where we started each day so I could work on his knee.

He didn’t put his shirt on, because he seemed to enjoy torturing me. Instead, he set his phone down on the bench beside him and started his playlist. Eminem was shouting through the speakers, and of course, Clark joined in, belting out the lyrics about Mom’s spaghetti and only getting this one shot in life as he poked me a few times while he sang the damn song like he’d written it himself.

“Okay, let’s focus please.” I didn’t want to tell him that I was a big Eminem fan, because it would give him too much pleasure that I approved of his music.

He just smirked at me as he was lying on the table, and his green eyes found mine. They were an unusual shade of light green, with pops of gold and amber and a dark brown rim around the edge. His lips twitched as he smiled. “Admit it, you like my music.”

“It’s fine.”

“I think you like it, Weeze. And since when are you so concerned about my landscaper? You wondering what I do when we aren’t together?” He winked.

“Pftt. Please. I never thought about it,” I lied. I was a curious human just like most people. “It’s just when you said you like to work in the yard, I guess I hadn’t expected it.”

“You grew up in a small town, didn’t you?” he asked.

There was a fine line with athletes about how much you should share. What kind of friendship you could form while still keeping things professional but still connecting as you worked so close together. With Clark and I spending three months working together one-on-one, it would be odd if we didn’t talk about our lives to some extent. I’d be spending four to five hours a day with the man, six days a week, for the next three months. So it would be normal to share a little bit with him.

“Yes. I lived in Windy Hill, Texas. It’s a small town outside of Austin.” I cleared my throat as I removed his brace and smiled because his knee was looking better each day as far as the inflammation. “Sleeping in the brace is helping. The swelling is coming down.”

“That’s all you, Weeze. You’re working wonders on my body.”

It’s like the universe was completely tuned in to the man, because “Sexy and I Know It,” by LMFAO started playing, and of course, the charming bastard moved to his feet and started dancing like a Chippendales dude at a bachelorette party.

His eyes found mine, and a wicked grin spread across his face as he started singing.

Did it just get hot in here?

five

. . .

Clark

Easton

Bring your A game, assholes. The Chad-Six ride tonight.

My brother Eastonwas a complete lunatic when it came to pickleball. Our team, the Chad-Six, were the reigning champions at the Rosewood River Country Club, and though none of us really wanted to play anymore, we did it because it meant so much to the bastard.

Rafe

I have jetlag, but apparently, I have no choice but to play fucking pickleball hours after a long flight.

Rafe and Lulu had just arrived back in Rosewood River after living abroad in Paris.

Easton

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