Vox laughs as he flexes.
“You’ve seen my diet, but you haven’t seen my extracurricular activities.”Fuck my life. Is he talking about sex again?I swear to God, I’m not going to survive him. “I burn more calories before eight a.m. than you do all day.”
“Well, fuck,” Renner says, looking at me while pointing to Vox. “Get me onthattraining plan.”
My brain isn’t online. I hear his words, but I don’t know how to answer because I have nothing to do with Vox’s morning routine…whatever it may be.
Vox laughs again.
“It’s not a prescribed workout, but if you want to join me for tomorrow’s six a.m. mountain run and ab crusher, you’re welcome to.”
“Six? In the morning? Nah, man. It’s like eight degrees out then. Abs aren’t worth it,” Renner says, waving Vox off.
And that’s why you’ll never be number one, I think to myself before remembering Renner doesn’t wanttobenumber one. A fact that is hard for me to comprehend.
I’m still staring at the planes of Vox’s stomach when he calls my name.
“Connor!”
Shit.“What?” I snap.
He gives me a devious smile. “Take a picture. It’ll last longer.” I’m about to tell him to fuck off and get back to work when his face lights up. “Oh! That’s actually a great idea! Grab my phone and open the camera. The media team will eat this up! Bet I can get five thousand likes before dinner.”
Renner chimes in and says something about Angel, but then his face falls. “Though I hear she’s seeing that lacrosse player from Idaho.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Vox replies, returning his attention to his headset, restarting his descent. He’s on a wide patch of mountain at the moment, the most technically challenging part already completed.
“Don’t you ever Google people?” Renner asks his teammate incredulously.
Vox’s body stiffens for a fraction of a second before an obstacle appears in his headset and he carves to avoid it.
“Not my teammates,” he answers, and I immediately know he’s insinuating that he’s Googledme.
Renner laughs and says, “Mmhmm, sure.” Then, he rips his own T-shirt over his head and tosses it onto the chair. “Okay, Golden Boy, time to let me have a turn again. We’ll both post the shirtless pics and see who has more likes by dinner. Loser buys the other’s beer. I’m going to prove you don’t have to have a six-pack to get laid.”
Steering off course and using the controls to end his run as rivulets of sweat run down his back, Vox grins. He loves competition in any form. “You’re on.” Then he looks more closely at his teammate. “Ren, what the fuck are you talking about? I can see your abs from here, dickwad.”
Renner grins. “Too late, you already agreed to the bet.”
“Sneaky-ass fucker,” Vox fires back.
I watch the exchange like a fly on the wall. Ishould be happy that Vox seems to be coming out of histeams-suckmentality and appears to be enjoying his time with Renner.
So why is something ugly unfurling low in my gut?
Just the possessiveness of a coach for his athlete, I tell myself. Ithasto be that because it’s way too fucking early in this season for it to be anything else…not that itcanbe anything else.
“Connor, grab some pictures, will you?” Vox asks, back to using my first name.
“This is a training session, not a photoshoot,” I reply sternly.
Vox’s mouth quirks up in a grin as he shoots me a wink. “Why can’t it be both?”
Opening the camera on Vox’s unlocked phone, I take the requested pictures and then, before I can overthink it, I type my name in the search bar to pull up Vox and I’s text stream and send two of the images to myself before deleting the evidence.
Chapter 9
Vox
