“I know.” I sigh. He’s right. I know better than to bring my shit onto the field.
“You keep that up, and they’re gonna start questioning your focus. And once that happens, the media smells blood. You know how this works.”
“I know. I get it.”
I close my eyes briefly because that’s something we haven’t discussed yet either. How we’re going to handle this with the media.
“This is exactly what that fucker wants,” Aston says, leaning in closer to me. “You lose your edge. Look unstable. You become the bad bet.”
I glare at him. “You don’t think I know all this?”
“Then start acting like you fucking do. Don’t let him win. Get control of yourself. Be the better man. Show her and your daughter that you’re the better man.”
The words land hard. Because as much as it sucks to hear them, he’s right.
So, after a good night's sleep and a few texts with Alie this morning, I’m ready to reset this whole experience at camp.
Today is hot, and I’m exhausted after endless reps. And by the time we’re on the last sprint, my legs are burning.
Brody false starts next to me, and Coach blows his whistle.
“Reset!”
Brody mutters something under his breath.
I look over at him and snap, “Lock in, Vaughn!”
He looks stunned. “Oh, now you want to join us?”
“I’m ready. Let’s go!”
He glares at me.
I see Coach watch us out of the corner of my eye. He’s watching us closely to see what we’ll do.
Saint steps between us subtly. “All right, everyone,” he says firmly, “breathe.”
I step back, hands up.
Coach studies me.
“Get it together, Pitz and Vaughn.”
“Yes, Coach,” we say together.
But I don’t miss the assessment. And I can’t afford that. Not now.
After we finish running our drills, I’m in the cold tub when Presley walks in. I’m not surprised she strolls in here as if there aren’t men in various states of undress at every bay.
“Hey, Presley,” I say, feeling slightly awkward.
“Hey.” She props a hip against the tub.
“Make yourself at home.”
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, please. I see you guys naked all the time.”
“I’m not naked.”
