I wince. “Yeah, that’s true. I can drive us both, if you want.”
“Are you sure? I might convince you to do something crazy and spontaneous before we get to camp.”
I laugh. “Trust me. You’re notthatconvincing.”
He arches a brow, amusement lighting up his eyes. “That’s what you think.”
Chapter Seventeen
BASH
I addin double training sessions until it’s time to leave for camp, because I don’t know if I’ll have the opportunity to train while I’m there. Thankfully, since signing up for Harbor Strike MMA, I’ve been training six early mornings a week before work—regular workouts on top of sparring and jujitsu.
And today, I finally feel more confident with my sparring.
Each blow my opponent lands is easy to withstand, but I can’t deny I need to work on landing faster punches.
After sparring, I do an hour each of grappling, drills, and weight lifting before heading home, where I spend some time by the lake out back to read the Bible on my phone. I sit out there, reading on the deck until Romilly lets me know she’s almost here to pick me up for camp.
I make my way to the driveway, and a text from Logan comes through.
Logan
hey, man. I heard we’re rooming together at camp!
Me
I know. Get ready to spar with me in your spare time.
Logan
stop tempting me. I can’t afford to get injured before my surfing competition and you know it. This is my chance to leave limo driving in the dust and I’d be a fool to squander it.
Me
Fine.
Logan
I will take you snowboarding this winter, though. I’m itching to see what you’re made of.
Me
Not fair. You’re making me compete with you in your element, but you won’t spar with me.
Logan
pick a less brutal sport and you’re on.
I chuckle as I shove my phone in my pocket. Who am I to steer the guy away from his dream to make it big? I’m currently doing the same thing. And I can’t deny it stings knowing I’ll be gone before winter hits, so I won’t get the chance to snowboard with Logan, anyway.
When Romilly picks me up, my spirits lift significantly. “Hey,” I say.
“Hi.” A little blush covers her cheeks as she smiles at me. I put my bags in her trunk and get in the passenger seat. Her car smells like flowers, and there’s a blues song quietly playing.
“You ready for camp?” she asks.
“I was born ready.”
