Page 109 of Burnout
“Don’t forget Avery.” Quinn holds out her water to me. “Third place at the first meet of the season is no joke. You would have been first if you’d done your original dismount.”
Knox and I accept our congratulations and the four of us cheers. Knox’s old team owner didn’t offer him a spot back on the team, but he did the next best thing. He found someone else that’s looking to make a switch. Colter says Neon Punch is the newer, shinier Thorne. He’s ecstatic.
Knox is…well, he’s harder to read.
“Are you okay?” I ask him after Quinn and Colter leave us to go to the bar.
“I think I’m just still surprised.” He shakes his head. “I really thought it was over.”
“No way. You’re too crazy talented to not get picked up by someone.”
One side of his mouth twitches and then lifts slightly.
“So what does this mean? I assume you have to go meet them or interview or something?”
“I gotta call tomorrow, but Mike thought they’d want me in New Mexico at the end of next week.”
“Next week?” I don’t have time to hide the surprise in my tone.
New Mexico is where their headquarters is located. I suppose it could be worse. He’ll be within driving distance.
“Most teams are already training or starting next week. Short off-season and then right back to it.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I get that.”
I take a few days off here and there, sometimes a week right after the season, but I’d train year-round with my team if NCAA rules would allow it.
“I guess that means we won’t be able to train together anymore.”
“Don’t pretend you’re sad to have me out of your gym, princess. You’ve been counting the days since I showed up.”
“Maybe before, but not now. It’s the best part of every day.”
He smiles and places a hand on my thigh. I bring that leg over his and inch closer.
“Congrats. Really. You set out to do something and you did it. I’m in awe of you.”
“Right back at ya, princess.”
The rest of the group shows up and we push tables together to make room. There are lots of shots and since I’m not old enough to partake, I enjoy watching as his friends push a few too many shots in Knox’s direction.
With each one he gets a little freer with the PDA. I’m sitting fully on his lap now while he talks to Brooklyn around me. One of his hands rests in my lap and his fingers make absent circles.
He tries to pull me into conversations, but my mind wanders. He’s going to leave next week and then what? Will we still talk or see each other?
An old song comes on the jukebox of the bar and Knox squeezes me around the middle. “Dance with me?”
“Here?”
“No, outside in the parking lot.” His sarcasm is punctuated with a smirk.
It seems just as likely that’s what he meant, but I slide off his lap and stand with him right behind me.
He holds my hand as he leads me out to a little area in the bar that can hardly be called a dance floor. An old guy with a graying beard tips his beer at us as we pass.
Knox wraps himself around me like he needs me to keep him upright. Which honestly could be the case at this point.
“Feeling good?” I ask him.
