I frown. “I will know, so you better do them.”
“You got it.” His tone is casual as he slowly makes his way to his big stupid truck.
“I mean it,” I call after him. “I will know and I will hunt you down for wasting my time.”
He gives me one more amused look over his shoulder. “But we’ve already established you don’t know where I live.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ARTHUR
When I wasten years old, I missed what should have been the game-winning goal. It wasn’t a playoff final, not even a tournament—just a regular Saturday afternoon game in a drafty community rink. Low stakes, nothing riding on it but bragging rights at school. Still, when the puck slid harmlessly past my stick, I felt as if the weight of the entire arena had dropped on my shoulders. I’d let down my coaches, my teammates, and every parent stamping their boots in the stands.
I can still see the look my coach gave me afterward. He’d forced a smile, going out of his way to be kind, but I wasn’t fooled. His eyes gave him away, full of the disappointment he didn’t want to voice.
It’s the same look Elliot is giving me now.
“You didn’t do the exercises.” Her tone is flat, not a question. A conclusion.
I blink at her. How the hell does she know? Has she been watching me this past week somehow? Lurking in dark corners, trailing me from city to city, spying on me when I think I’m alone?
God, I hope not. If she had, she’d have seen things I’drather not explain. Like the times in the shower when I pressed my forearm against the tile and worked my shaft raw, imagining her beside me, damp hair slicked to her skin, water running down every curve. I’d come undone uttering her name like a curse.
A week ago, when I left her house after that first session, I’d fully intended to stick with the program. Monday morning, I made it halfway through the routine before the bad knee protested, sharp pain that told me not to push it. Tuesday afternoon we flew into Pittsburgh, and by the time I’d sat through meetings with my coaching staff, the day was gone. Wednesday was worse. Two of my players threw down in an on-ice brawl that made the highlight reels for all the wrong reasons. There were fines, suspensions, and press to deal with. Thursday morning my father called, sounding downright gleeful as he pointed out what a disaster it was.
By then I’d given up. I’d missed too many days, and a half-hearted effort on Monday didn’t count for much when everything after that had gone to hell. Still. She had to be bluffing. How could she possibly know I’d skipped them?
But as I stand here now, a week later, in the living room she’s carefully cleared of furniture to make space for me, it’s obvious she does know. Disappointment shadows her face, edged with a trace of hurt.
“I did some of them,” I offer, which is technically true. A dozen repetitions of my exercises six days ago. Nowhere near what she expects. But if she’s waiting for me to hang my head and apologize, she’d better get comfortable.
I’ve got a big job, people who depend on me, a schedule that eats me alive most weeks. And let’s be clear: I’m paying her. Not the other way around. If I don’t have time to do her exercises, she still gets her money. Elliot might run these sessions, but I’m still running the show.
So I wait. Ready for the guilt trip. Ready for her lecture.
But she doesn’t speak. She just rocks back on her heels, lips caught between her teeth, calculating. Waiting me out.
Her silence unnerves me.
A shrill timer starts to ring in the other room.
“Here.” She doesn’t look at me as she hands me a resistance band. “Start stretching with this while I take my cookies out of the oven. I’ll be right back.”
I watch her walk away, unable to stop myself from admiring the way her yoga pants hug her round ass.
Save it for your next shower, Ace.
“Hi, Mr. Stetson.”
Sam seems to have materialized out of thin air, scaring the life out of me.
“Jesus, kid. You startled me.”
“Sorry.” He leans against the doorframe holding what looks like a thick comic book in his hands. “Here for another session?”
“I am. Your mom just had to take some cookies out of the oven.”
“Yeah.” He nods. “I wanted to make sure she heard the timer.”
