Page 47 of Striking Heat
I nod. “I know. Thanks for not announcing it.”
“Well, everyone ran away so fast, but yeah, I don’t want to announce it if you’re not keen on him joining us,” he says with a shrug.
“They disappear so fast because they don’t want you to give them more work to do,” I tease him.
“I know I’m tough, but I’m just trying to make sure everyone is prepared,” he defends.
“Oh, we’ll be prepared. You don’t need to have these sessions two days a week, though. We need to hit the field too.”
“You just prefer the pitch to the gym,” he throws back.
“I do. It quiets me.”
“The gym can be quieting too, you know.”
“It would be if you ever shut up,” I tease him, hoping it doesn’t backfire, and he’ll make me do push-ups or burpees—anything he knows I hate.
“Eh, what can I say? I like to talk,” he says with a chuckle.
I smile warmly at him. I might like to tease Lucas, but he’s a good guy. He’s been a good friend and trainer since I got to Tampa, always pumping me up and making sure I’m prepared for the work on the field. He likes to keep us on our toes, which I appreciate.
I’ve always liked being pushed. Even when I was in college and we were supposed to be on rest days, I would sneak into the field house and do some light footwork or yoga—anything to keep my body moving. Lucas seems to understand that and tailors my workouts to make sure I feel like I’m being pushed. It’s another reason I booked my workout alone today. I wanted to make sure that no one else on the team could hold me back from a hard one.Lifting isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, and I wanted to avoid pushing them if they weren’t looking for that.
“Let’s stretch and I’ll see if I can keep my yapping to a minimum,” he teases, leading me through some stretches.
Once I’m all loose and ready, we start with medicine ball squats.
“Make sure you’re really sinking into the squat,” Lucas corrects.
“I hate that you make me do squats. They’ve always been my least favorite,” I grumble.
And that’s all it takes to turn my quiet workout into a reminder about the importance of squats and how they help build up the muscles in the legs. He’s still talking about it when I move on to barbell back squats.
My leg muscles are burning in the best way. The sweat is really starting to pour as the weight I’m squatting is made heavier and heavier. It’s then that Danny makes an appearance.
“She lifts heavy,” he says on approach.
“What, are you surprised girls can lift too?”
“No, not at all. Just making an observation.” He steps closer so that our chests are almost touching. “You forget, I’ve seen every inch of your body. I know you’re strong.”
My breath hitches at his words. I’m sure he hears it.
“And you know what?” he asks. “I kinda love it.”
I flush and step back a bit, almost tripping over the towel that Lucas keeps handy so I can wipe the sweat from my hands.
“You good?” Lucas asks, noticing the misstep but missing the whole conversation between Danny and I. Thank god. He turns to Danny. “So, Danny, are you going to write something flattering about our girl here, or are you going to be mean?”
Danny chuckles. “Of course I’ll be nice. I don’t think Cromwell would have let me do it if I wasn’t going to be. Plus, I think it helps that I’m spending some time with the team and Mac. Helps me write a better article, with some actual facts.”
“Good. I can’t wait to read it,” Lucas tells him as he adds more weight. “Let’s see if you can squat this.”
I nod, making sure to keep my back straight as my legs move up and down, lifting the heavy weight. That’s the thing about soccer players—we have strong legs and need to be challenged. Lucas gets that, and he loves to challenge me.
“Impressive,” Danny says.
I don’t even bother to look at the number, but judging from the weight, I would say he’s added ten more pounds.
