Page 74 of False Start

“You,” he said, pointing at Tilly who’d made her way onto the track and into the infield. “No dirty play. You throw even one elbow here and you’re out. Got it?”

Tilly nodded like she was in boot camp. “Got it.”

Ass kisser.

But then, she’d always been. It wasn’t how she behaved when everyone was looking. It was the words she’d sharpened, delivered on her cruel tongue when no one else was listening that had been the problem.

“No warnings. You know the rules, you know what I expect. No second chances.” His mouth had thinned into a hard, angry line. His eyes narrowed, irritability in the set of his rigid shoulders. A complete one eighty from how he dealt with us even in the beginning when Eve pushed his boundaries.

Maybe he wasn’t as comfortable with this addition as he let us all believe.

Or maybe he was one hell of an actor.

“Understood,” Tilly said.

“Good. Get your gear on and get your ass on the track.” He turned to us then and I thought I saw it, a flash of apology in his eyes. “Laps!” he snapped. “One skating forward. One skating backward. Don’t roll off that bank until you’ve done another fifty.”

Guess I imagined it.

Maybe I didn’t go back far enough in the instinct department because it looked like I should have been trusting my flaming asshole instincts all along.