Page 16 of Mr. Swoony

I decide to stretch because I have slacked a little more than I usually do during the offseason, for no reason other than I feel unsettled lately.

“Where the hell did you go the other night?” Tweetie asks, stopping my thoughts from floating back to Eloise.

“The clubs aren’t doing it for me anymore,” I answer. They aren’t, but I’m also not sure Tweetie is the person I want to talk to about this Eloise situation.

Tweetie keeps his cards close to his chest as far as his romantic past. Since I played in Florida before being traded here, I heard rumors of him getting serious with some woman named Tedi. But I heard that after he was traded from Florida to Nashville, they broke up. No one really knows who initiated the breakup or why it didn’t work out, but he’s implied a handful of times that she might have been the one who got away. He ignores that fact, though, and continues acting as if he’s getting some kind of fulfillment from the women who flock to and fawn over him, which is enough to tell me he’s not the one to go to for advice on this matter.

“Just a blonde with a tight ass in leather pants does it for you now?” He smirks at me in the mirror.

“Fuck off.” I stand to do the cardio I desperately need before weights. “I was helping her out.”

“Help her out by being her last hook-up before she walks down the aisle?”

Why did I think Tweetie didn’t notice where I was and who I was with the other night?

“I helped her because her friend was wasted and could barely walk.”

“Always the good Samaritan.” He grins at me.

I press the button on the treadmill, and in the mirror, I catch Rowan walking in.

“We could have shared an Uber! Why aren’t you fuckers texting in the group chat?” He drops his bag next to mine and toes out of his street shoes.

“You spending so much money on my little sister that you can’t afford an Uber?” I ask.

Rowan, our center, fell in love with my little sister while I was still playing in Florida, and now I have to watch him touch her all the time. Since they got together, there’s apparently never enough seating anywhere because she’s always on his lap. All in all, I love to give them a hard time, but he loves my sister and treats her how he should, so I’m good with it.

“Want to compare endorsements?” He smirks at me in the mirror.

I increase my speed on the treadmill to drown out these guys and their bullshit.

“He’s in a mood,” Tweetie says. “I think it’s about the blonde from the other night.”

“What blonde?” Rowan asks.

“Oh, that’s right.” Tweetie drops his weights and acts all dramatic. “You don’t go out with us anymore.”

“Kyleigh and I just went to the club with you guys last week.”

“So, it’s an every other week thing? Good. This week, we’re on the list for that new club on Rush.” Tweetie gets on the treadmill next to me. “Want to race, sunshine?”

“We have a wedding this weekend, sorry.” Rowan stretches on the mat in front of us.

I’ve always thought I was flexible—I have to be, given that I’m a goalie—but damn, Rowan must be doing yoga with Ky or something.

“Your ass is doing that hot yoga shit, aren’t you?” Tweetie asks before I can call Rowan out.

“Jealous?”

“Fuck yeah, hook me up.” Tweetie pumps up his speed higher than mine and shoots me a cocky smirk.

I increase my speed and up my incline, working my thighs.

“I don’t want you staring at Kyleigh’s ass in class,” Rowan says.

“I stare at her ass all the damn time,” Tweetie says.

I reach over and lower his speed, and Tweetie almost trips over his feet and falls down on the treadmill. Of course, he barely fumbles before recovering and pumping up the speed again, shooting me another ego-driven grin.

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