Page 17 of Heartbreaker
“John.” His name is barely a whisper. “I—I swear I had no idea. I didn’t…I didn’t know you worked here.”
He laughs. “I know.”
“I’m not a stalker.”
“Well, that is something a stalker might say.” The words draw a glare from me. “I’m kidding, Sav. I believe you. I had a feeling that night when you didn’t flinch seeing me or any of the guys in the bar. You only confirmed my suspicion when you saw Theo and couldn’t give two shits.”
“If I had known—”
“If you had known—what? You wouldn’t have joined the company? Savannah, I’d never ask that of you. I am curious, though. What happened to cheerleading?” John tucks his hands into his pockets. “I thought you were with the Wildcats.”
“I was,” I say a little too quickly. “But the longer I was in it, the more I wanted out. I’d been wanting out, I just didn’t know what I wanted to do instead.”
“So, you pickedwrestling?”
My shoulders lift gently, hands tightening a little around the strap of my bag. “Not exactly. My brothers made a bet that I wouldn’t try out when one of them saw the posting.” I laugh, realizing how stupid the whole thing sounded. “It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. This wasn’t supposed to happen, but the second I stepped in that ring…I don’t know, it just felt right.” The words draw a genuine smile to his face, and I notice he takes a step closer, hands still restrained inside his pockets. “But these damn promos are killing me.”
“I’ve heard.”
“What do you mean, ‘you’ve heard?’”
“We all talk.” John shrugs, finally peeling his hands from his sides, folding his arms over his chest. “I was asking how the new people were looking, and Fata mentioned that you needed some help.”
“I think we all do, that’s why we’re here today.”
“Funny, so am I.”
The moment John and I walk into the training center together, I can see Raelynn and Bennett immediately enter a frenzy from their place on the apron on the other side of the room. Eyes bug out of their sockets before they start giggling like schoolgirls.
“Brooks!” Fata’s voice booms, and he slaps a hand on his back. “Glad you could make it. Am I interrupting something?” The legend looks between us, and I realize we’re standing closer than two people who aren’t supposed to know each other should be.
John clears his throat, but doesn’t move away. “No, I just happened to run into Savannah in the parking lot.”
Fata’s brow cocks, along with his mouth. He nods slowly before his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “Well, I hate to interrupt, but I’d like to discuss the game plan for today. Do you mind if I steal him, Barbie?”
I force my mouth into a smile and shake my head. John offers me a small smile and a subtle wink before he follows the legend back into the lobby. When they’re gone, I finally let out the breath I’ve been holding before heading for the locker room with Raelynn hot on my heels.
“Did you guys…you know?” Her brows wiggle when we get inside.
“No, Rae. We did not ‘you know.’” I roll my eyes, tossing my duffel into the locker. Barely six inches sit between us when I turn around. “Ever heard of personal space?” I sigh when she doesn’t budge. “Nothing is going on. We just happened to walk in at the same time. It’s not that deep. Now come on,” I say, urging her back a few steps. Her eyes narrow, as if she can tell a truth from a lie just by looking at me. “C’mon, before we’re late. I don’t feel like going first.”
When Juliet initially told me the trainers were planning a full day of promo work, she said they were bringing in Luna Haze to help Sheldon coach us, but Fata had other plans. The moment he saw John yesterday, he invited him to help the rookies with their delivery, and all the trainers agreed that if he was going to interrupt practice, they should put him to work. In all my research last night, it became obvious thatBrooks Taylorhad a knack for solid promos and eleven-out-of-ten character development. While he may not be the best wrestler on the roster, there’s a reason he’s at the top, and he can hold his own in the ring even with the best technical boys out there.
And that’s how we end up here.
The rookies surround the ring, watching and waiting for their turn to climb in and deliver a thirty-second promo in front of everyone. John and Sheldon work with each person, taking time to go through where they went wrong and what they did well, sometimes making them start over until the veterans are satisfied.
When my name is called, I dig my nails into the palms of my hands and remind myself it’s only thirty seconds. I can do this.
And those thirty seconds feel like thirty hours, much longer than any other time I’ve delivered a practice promo. My words are awkward and stilted, and the whole thing reeks of nerves. I can only think of one reason why, and it’s sitting in the corner. In the end, it wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great. At least Sheldon didn’t tell me to start from the top halfway through.
“That was better, Savannah! Much better. I can tell you’ve been working on it,” Sheldon says, his hands coming together in loud claps. His words of praise make a small swell of pride rise in me because he’s been working with me the most on promos. “But—”
“Do you want to know what your problem is?” John asks from the corner of the ring. Elbows resting on the top of the ropes, he’s made himself comfortable, leaning back into the turnbuckles. His hand scratches the small amount of stubble on his jaw as he stares straight at me. He pushes off the ropes, taking one slow step at a time like a predator stalking its prey until he stands in front of me. “You don’t believe it. You don’t believe what you’re saying. You don’t believe in yourself.”
“I believe in myself.” I cross my arms, but I know he doesn’t believe me any more than I believe myself.
“Maybe in a physical aspect, but not like this.”
