Page 101 of Over the Line

“Fuck off,” I mutter.

“Dude,” Knox says again.

“If you know,” Riggs interjects, “then you know. So just shut up, leave the man alone, and don’t do anything to fuck with his woman, yeah?”

More silence.

This time because…

“That’s the most words I’ve heard you say at once,” Knox says, eyes wide.

I agree, albeit not out loud. Riggs is one of the quietest players on the team—very much of the head down, keep skating mentality. And he’s a good guy. Solid, dependable, and fiercely loyal once someone has gained his trust.

Hence him putting the quiet aside to interject on my behalf.

“What other opinions is he hiding?” Leo asks, tapping his chin.

“Jesus Christ,” Riggs mutters, pushing up from the bench. “Are we ready?”

“For Lake to kick our asses?” Knox asks. “That’s a no.”

Riggs rolls his eyes.

Leo reaches for his workout clothes, glances at me. “So, what are we doing today?”

I grin. Is it evil? Sure as fuck is. “I’m thinking A to Z.”

All three of them groan, which makes me feel significantly better.

Because A to Z is a series of twenty-six exercises, each corresponding to a movement, starting with Archer pushups and ending with Zercher squats. It’s brutal. It’s something I do when I want my body to hurt so much that my brain shuts down.

And thinking about what I just declared—and the possibility of Nova leaving anyway—thinking about that shit happening inside my heart, thinking about what I want deep down and how it goes against everything I’ve been holding tight the last couple of years…

Well, I would really like for my brain to chill the fuck out.

“No, man,” Knox begs.

“It’s good for us,” I say, grabbing my towel because shit is about to get sweaty.

And…it’s payback, muahaha.

Leo shakes his head. “No man. It’s fucking torture.” He yanks on a Sierra-branded tee and bends to tie his shoes. “I mean, I’m going to do it because I’m not going to bitch out on our agreement”—that we would push ourselves on days like this, push ourselves to be better—“but, just saying, you don’t have to punish us all when Knox is the asshole.”

Riggs nods in agreement. “Word.”

Which almost—almost—makes me laugh.

Because, as Knox pointed out, he uses so few of those.

But I don’t comment, don’t argue, and I sure as shit don’t give them an out. I just go into the kitchen, grab some bottled waters from the fridge, and come back, tossing one to each of them. “Hydrate, boys. We’ve got to get to Z.”

They groan again.

But they follow me to the gym.

And all the way down to Z.

And Leo’s right.

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