“You mean, my girlfriend?” Griffin asked, unamused.
Bowen raised his brows at Maggie, sternly. “Do not practice with him. He’s teaching you sloppy habits and it’s going to hurt you on race day.” He snapped at both of them. “Flirt on your own clock.” He looked down at his smart watch. “For the next forty-seven minutes, it’s training time.” He scowled in Griffin’s direction. “Where is your partner?”
“Mom’s home, making dinner. She already did her training today.” Bowen shooed him away with the flick of a wrist. “Not my problem, you and your partner can’t sync your schedules.”
Cash chuckled nervously under his breath.
Griffin’s nostrils flared and his hands balled into fists. But then he turned and jogged for the start line to take another loop.
Maggie watched him go, and then glowered at Bowen. “Do you have to act like such a douche?”
Bowen’s hair was pulled up in a man bun today, which meant no hiding his fierce expression. “Yes, we’re on a time crunch. And you’re holding the handle too tight. That’s your first problem. Also, move back a few feet. You need to step with the opposite foot when you throw.”
Cash handed me a spear. “Good frickin’ gracious,” he whispered. “I hope we all live through this.”
I heaved the handle up, holding it by my right ear, the way Griff had.
“Bowen’s right,” Cash said under his breath. “You have to loosen your grip. I know it feels wrong but you need to pretend it’s a big old dart. Firm but relaxed.
I readjusted my fingers. “Okay. What next?”
“Feet shoulder width apart,” Bowen ordered loud enough for both Maggie and me to hear. “You two have arms like clothes hangers. Let your legs do the work. So get your stance right.”
Maggie rolled her eyes but did as he said. As did I.
“Hold it at an upward angle,” Cash said next. “You want it to arc, not dive.”
“Oh.” Maggie’s eyes widened, clearly realizing she’d been doing that part wrong.
“Told you Griff’s teaching you sloppy habits.” Bowen’s arms crossed. “Just because he can lob it, doesn’t mean it will work for you.”
That one statement told the difference between Bowen and Griff. Griff was all fun, no organization, fly by the seat of his pants. The life of the party, but never the one who helps clean up after.
Bowen was all systems and neatness. He was the one you wanted around when you needed something done quickly and efficiently. No nonsense. But he knew how to have a good time too. At least he used to.
Maggie and I tipped the back of our spears lower.
But Maggie’s must’ve been too low for Bowen’s liking, because, like Griffin, he scooted in behind her, wrapping his fingers around hers. Then he angled her spear up a little more. “You want it right about here.”
But the thing I noticed was the way she stiffened. Not a bristle, like when some skeezy guy makes a move you don’t want. The kind of stiff that screamed every one of her nerve endings was on high alert and she was flexing every muscle not to show it. If that weren’t enough of a giveaway, her ears turned red like two neon signs. She hadn’t had a reaction anywhere close to that when Griffin was the one touching her.
Cash caught my eye. Okay. He saw it too.
Bowen and Cash took turns, barking out more steps: eye on the target, snap the wrist as you throw to keep the spear from wobbling in the air, use your whole body, and follow through the same way you do when shooting a free throw.
The tip of my spear landed just outside the target. Close, but in the race, I’d be running the penalty loop.
But Maggie’s hit the bullseye, almost dead center. She hooted and, in a shocking turn of events, tackled Bowen in a tight hug.
“Could you feel it?” Bowen asked as he patted her back.
“She felt something all right,” Cash mumbled. Too loud. I elbowed him in the ribs.
“Yes!” Maggie squealed. But then, like she’d been zapped with a cattle prod, her face blanked and she jerked back, tripping over her own feet like she’d just walked face-first into a glass door.
He steadied her. Then he strode to the hay bale, yanked the spear free, and walked it to her, completely unfazed. “Let’s see you do it again.”
She did. Seven more times, while I still didn’t so much as graze the outside of the circle. Maggie’s inability to keep her excitement tamped down grew with each spear she landed. By the time she hit the eighth, the heavens had parted, and her eyes glowed at Bowen like she’d just found out he was secretly a prince.
