It’s nice to chill and take my mind off everything. That was a close call outside the gym last night, but I’m kicking ass at training today, not letting it shake me.
“Play Hard,” I try again. “Adventure Conditioning. ExerFun.”
“ExerFun?” Syed says. I turn and see him and Kevyn walking by. “What’s ExerFun?”
“We’re trying to come up with names for my business,” Stace explains.
Kevyn winces and shakes his head. “Don’t call it ExerFun,” he tells her. “Please.”
Syed chuckles. “Funercise? No, that’s even worse.”
“It’s got to be a name that makes you happy when you hear it,” Kevyn says. “That’s the vibe.”
Stace nods, catching his eye. “Exactly.”
When I see the way Kevyn and Stace both glance at each other, an idea crosses my mind. They both mentioned being open for something casual right now, and their ideas about sports and life are pretty closely aligned.
Maybe I should try to set them up. I’ve never played matchmaker. It sounds satisfying, and they could probably help each other out like Troy and I do.
Kevyn gestures out to the field. “Frisk is here. You got a meeting?”
When I turn, Troy stands on the other side of the field. He’s looking in our direction, and he’s far enough way that I can’t see his expression, but somehow, I still know that his brow is creased, his jaw set hard.
That’s not good.
“Uh, no,” I say. “Must be here for Zeke. But I’m going to catch him before he walks away. I’ve got a, uh, contract question,” I say as I stand. “Catch you all later.”
I walk across the center of the field, my heart pounding.
I searched for myself online last night and this morning, and nothing new was coming up, no outtakes from my nearly nude sprint. But as I get closer and see how pissed Troy is, I scold myself that I should have called the agency anyway.
It seems so obvious now, but I thought I’d gotten away with it, and the idea of not telling Troy I messed up was much more appealing than calling him and confessing my carelessness immediately.
“Hey,” I say, praying he’s not here because of me.
Troy snorts. He’s in gray trousers and an undone collared white shirt, both a little rumpled. And why is that fact distractingly hot to me?
“Popping in just to say hi?”
He walks us over to the side, half-hidden by a big wooden booth. “No. Just curious about the message you sent me last night.”
I raise an eyebrow, confused. I didn’t…
My heart jumps in my throat. Shit, shit, shit. I grab my phone and pull up the messages with Troy, and sure enough, I sent a photo by mistake when I fell out the door.
“It’s not even a good picture,” I say. “Damn it, Troy. Sorry.” I look up. “That wasn’t intentional. I mean, I did consider sending you some PG-13 fun. But the message last night was a mistake.”
Troy takes my phone out of his hand, shocking me. “Hey,” I object.
He punches around on it. “A mistake. Huh? Was this a mistake, too?” he asks, but instead of showing me something else, he keeps messing around with my phone.
“What the hell are you doing?” I object after a few seconds, but keep my voice controlled and my features as neutral as I can, aware people can see us.
“How the hell does TikTok work?” he asks, frustrated. “Here,” he says, slapping the phone in my hand before stepping back. “There’s a video of you online. Find it.”
It takes a second for his words to process, but when they do, dread washes over me.
Troy sees the reaction on my face. “It’s a little blurry,” he says flatly. “Not clear it’s you. But whoever took it seems to have recognized you.”
