Page 40 of Game On
He quirks a brow. “And you have the technical skills to back it up.”
“I’ve been told that a time or two.”
“Alright, superstar. You want to try that again?” he asks. “Or do you want to work on our walk to hands?”
“Actually, I need to meet someone out front,” I say, wiping my sweaty palms on my shorts. “I’ve got a … friend coming to practice with us. He should be here by now.”
Luke and Ash just stand there, unmoving. “You have a friend we don’t know about?” Luke asks, masking his surprise poorly.
“It’s Hudson,” I tell them, attempting to sound casual as I gather my things.
They continue to stare at me, unblinking, confusion lining their faces. I roll my eyes, and add, “Fox,” as if there were any other Hudson I could be referring to.
Their jaws drop simultaneously. The sight would almost be comical if it weren’t so annoying.
“Mr. All-American?” Luke scoffs. “Are you serious?”
Ignoring the question and their shell-shocked reactions, I check my phone to find a message from Hudson saying he’s arrived. “Yes, and he’s outside waiting for me. So, if you’ll excuse me …”
I make my way towards the exit before they can ask any more questions. Once outside, I spot Hudson leaning against his truck, dressed down in a casual T-shirt and athletic shorts, his hair pushed back, showcasing that same daring smile that always seems to find its way onto his face.
A familiar flutter stirs in my chest at the sight of him, but I quickly push it aside. We’ve decided to just be friends, and I need to stick to that. I won’t allow myself to expect more than he’s willing to give, and I certainly won’t be theone to offer it to him again. Two rejections are more than enough.
“Hey,” I call out as I approach.
“Hey,” he says, his gaze lighting up as he tracks my movements.
“You ready to work?”
“I might be rusty,” he warns, a playful edge to his voice.
My brow hitches. “You mean you haven’t cheered in five years, and you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing?”
He tips his chin up defiantly, but there’s an undeniable sparkle in his eye. “If I meant that, I would have said it. I’m gonna kick your ass in there, Davies.”
“The guys are here, too,” I say. “Just so you know. Luke and Ash. We’re working on more partner stuff.”
He nods, a slight smirk playing on his lips. “Lead the way.”
We walk towards the entrance of Skyline together, pushing open the heavy doors into the echoing hall. It’s filled with energy tonight, athletes of all ages and ability here for open tumble. I lead Hudson over to where Ash and Luke are stretching, their expressions bemused at the sight of us together.
We spend a minute or two on introductions. Hudson awkwardly explains how he used to cheer back home in Texas when he was younger. The boys respond with skeptical looks, but I can tell Hudson isn’t bothered by it in the slightest. That man’s confidence is a solid rock.
“Alright, then,” Luke finally grunts, clapping his hand against his thigh. “Let’s get started.”
I partner up with Hudson, scratching my head at where to start, and the other two circle us like hawks. Hudson’s strong, sure, but he hasn’t practiced partner stunting in years. It takes consistency and dedication to maintain this type of skill.
There’s also a lack of trust between us, and trust is crucial for success and safety. We need to build that, and fast.
Ash steps in, breaking the silence. “Is there anything you feel comfortable starting out with? Maybe something basic to get your bearings?”
Hudson takes a step back, running a ragged hand through his hair. “Honestly, I’ll let the experts take the reins here,” he says with a half-smile. Luke and Ash exchange a quick look.
“Okay, let’s start with some beginner full ups,” Ash decides, turning to demonstrate with me. We execute a flawless walk to hands, showing the smooth mechanics of the stunt. After I dismount, Hudson manages a tight half-smile, half-grimace.
“Alright, let me give you the grips,” Ash says, laughing, before he runs through the sequence with me. “She’ll give you her right foot first,” he explains, positioning Hudson’s hands. “You can place your index finger on her heel, the palm of your hand covers the ball of her foot, and then you’re gonna cup your other hand beneath just to help throw it. So, we’re gonna throw, release, and then regrab all with that same hand.”
I chime in, hoping to ease his nerves. “What I’m going to do is push right over you,” I say, using my whole body to mimic the motion in a twirling gesture. “I’ll keep a straightline down from my shoulder to my hip, all the way through to my ankle.”
