Page 46 of Burnout
All week she’s had me doing flips and twists into the pit. It’s kind of fun. Not that I’d admit that to her. It’s also exhausting. I can’t remember ever being this sore. Again, not that I’d admit that to her.
We fall into stretches without her saying anything. I have the whole routine memorized at this point. She leans forward, basically folding her body in half with her legs wide. I’m doing a less flexible version where my fingers don’t even reach my toes.
Laughing, she scoots closer and lines her feet up with mine.
“Give me your hands.” She leans forward, stretching out her arms toward me.
It’s embarrassing how far she has to lean until I can reach her fingertips. We join hands and she sits back an inch.
“Ouch,” I say as my muscles protest the extra stretch.
She just grins and pulls a little harder.
“You’re tiny, but terrifying,” I tell her.
“Thank you.” She smiles sweetly.
“So really, do you practice at night or do you just like to hang out here?”
She takes a moment to answer. “I hurt my knee earlier this year at a competition. I hyperextended it and messed up my ACL. Over the summer, I had surgery and completed rehab, but I haven’t been able to practice much. Coming here is routine, I guess. I do what I can on the mats. That was the most skills I’ve done on beam in a month.”
If that was her rusty, then I’d kill to see her on top of her game. “Looked pretty good to me for not having done it in a while.”
“Pretty good?” She scoffs and smiles.
“Sorry about your knee.”
“Thanks.”
We switch up the stretch and I pull her toward me. Her flexibility is impressive and sends a dozen dirty thoughts racing through my mind.
“Knox?” she asks.
I clear my throat. “Sorry, what?”
“I asked about your shoulder.”
“It’s fine.” I landed a little rough on a trick two days ago and my right shoulder has been bugging me. Nothing I can’t handle. I wouldn’t have even mentioned it to her, but yesterday it was all I could do to hold a handstand for a few seconds.
She studies me for a moment like she’s trying to determine if I’m bluffing.
“Really.” I break away from our stretch and go up into a handstand, then push off the floor to pop myself back to my feet.
When I come down, she’s watching me still from the floor with an amused expression. “Okay. I was going to take you at your word, but if you want to show off for me, then by all means. I love a good show.”
She leans back, arms propping her up, and stares at me with those bright blue eyes. I like having her eyes on me.
“If you want a show, then you should watch me race.”
She cocks her head to one side. “Is that an invitation?”
I find myself nodding. “Yeah. Any time.”
She holds out her hands and I reach down and help her to her feet. I pull a little too hard. She’s so small. And she trips forward into my chest. She’s laughing and so am I.
“Smooth,” she says, sarcasm mixed in with her laughter. We linger there a beat, her cheek resting against my bare chest and me holding on to her.
Avery steps back and drops her gaze, breaking the moment. “Why don’t we work on your backflip a little more. It was looking good yesterday.”
