Page 39 of Unrivaled Love
“Yeah yeah, I’m at home. It just felt like I couldn’t breathe.”
“I get it. Can you get a glass of water?”
“Yeah.” He agrees quietly and I can pick up sounds of his movement in the background. I stay quiet as he pours himself a drink and takes it. “Thanks.”
“Of course.” Crosby is prone to anxiety attacks. During the season the daily exercise helps, and he carries sour candies around to help his brain focus on the taste instead of the anxious thoughts. And he’s the first one to pull out the smelling salts on the bench. “No idea what triggered it today?” I ask after I hear him take another sip.
“I think it’s just the general tension of this off-season. Have you felt like this summer is different?”
“It’s way different, man. One, it’s shorter by like a fucking month because we had to be so good we kept playing.” He laughs and I smile. “And all the appearances have been tough. I know I struggled with them.” I pause. I didn’t want to admit to the guys I couldn’t hack it but Crosby will understand. “That's why I left and came out here.”
“How’s that going by the way?” Crosby asks and I’m glad he seems to have moved past the worst of it.
“Good. The yarn was awesome, although it’s getting a little annoying now. And then she retaliated by stringing my clothes up into the rafters using a fishing pole.”
“Genius.”
“Yeah, it’s been quiet this afternoon. Although I did put koolaid in her shower head and switched her shampoo for ketchup.” I look up at thehouse over my shoulder from where I’ve walked down the trail. “Actually, she might be dealing with all that right now.”
“Well at least you’re having fun out there.” Crosby offers and I chuckle. Yeah, I am having fun. Sure we’re not friends like we used to be but hanging out with Jo, even if it’s in the moments when she’s reacting to pranks or turning them on me, has been comforting.
I continue down the trail and chat with Crosby about his plans for the rest of the day. I take the long way back and enjoy stretching my legs. And when the house comes back into view I steel myself for whatever Jo has been able to cook up over the last hour.
Chapter 12
Jo
Koolaid and Ketchup
I’mgladIcheckedthe shampoo bottle before I got into the shower. Even after I emptied the cherry koolaid Bryson had dumped into the shower head, something told me to inspect the shampoo and when I found the ketchup I had to resist the urge to chuck it across the small room.
The baby shampoo Al left behind is going to have to do. I need a shower and while I’m not thrilled to smell like an infant it’s all I’ve got right now.
I glance out past the shower curtain to check on my one set of clothing. That fucking kit. It’s a constant reminder of my suspension. If Bryson steals it I’m back in the ugly man apron. I’m not ready to go get new clothes yet. I don’t trust Bryson enough to leave the property for an extended period of time. He’d change the locks or something.
The hot water hits my shoulders and I let it melt some of the tension I keep there. Even the team chiropractor has adjusted to how rock solid my traps are. We do ART sessions every day and the muscles are still locked up.
I roll my head from shoulder to shoulder and think about when I last felt relaxed.
Sitting in the hot tub alone last night was probably it.
Before that? I’m not really sure. Last season I took a day to veg out and read. I tasked myself to not think about soccer. One day off for the year. Maybe. Since US Team training will occupy most of my off season this year I could take my one day off today.
After this shower I’ll comfort myself with heroines who are able to kick ass and find love.
When I last set it down the characters were finishing a battle together and I think we’re going to build into a spicy chapter or two. Flora’s main love interest is presumed dead, but I have theories he’s actually alive on the other side of the kingdom, working his way back to her. After this last battle, I’m guessing she will release her feelings for her lost first love by turning to this second love interest, Sigrun, for comfort.
I’m looking forward to walking through the story with the character and letting all the feelings build slowly until the next action happens.
It’s unhinged, and I’d never admit it to anyone, but I get jealous of the characters sometimes. What would it feel like to have someone willing to burn the world for me? To have someone fight for me? Someone who has spent their whole life obsessed with me? What would I do if I had to choose between my calling and my crush?
I haven’t felt the rush of falling for someone in a long time and I smile alongside the characters as they fall.
I turn and let the scalding water burn my face and chest for a moment before shutting the water off and grabbing a towel.
With an inhale and an exhale I dry off, put my kit back on, and decide I’m going to finish my chapter and then head into town to buy some new clothes. Maybe I can convince my roommate to agree to a cease-fire until I have another outfit.
I come upstairs and don’t see Bryson anywhere but my book is on the counter. I see the nail clippers next to the refrigerator and decide I’ll use them to slice through some of the yarn later because bobbing up and down is getting old.
