Page 1

Chapter 1

Cameron

I'm three seconds away from smacking Spinner with a kettlebell.

"All’s I'm saying," he nags, "is that you could stand to have a little fun." He leans against the dumbbell rack like he just said something profound. “It’s mini-golf, Mayhem. We’ll all be there.”

One flick of the wrist and I could bash out his remaining teeth. But I’d never do that to our team dentist. The paperwork alone…

"Howie already said yes," Spinner continues. “He’s bringing Ella. And maybe she knows some other hot nurses…”

Rookie’s head pops up from the bench where he’s racked the barbell. “Call my sister hot again, Spinner. I dare you.”

Howie, who is dating said sister, growls from the squat cage.

Spinner flicks a hand in the air dismissively and grabs a jump rope. “All women are beautiful, Rookie. As Mayhem would know if he ever got a life.”

Spinner and Rookie are still partying like they’re unsigned college kids rather than pros on the brink of a losing season. The guys are relentless, pressuring me to go trolling for women, talk about women, go home with women.

"You know what your problem is?" Spinner asks, unfazed by the speed rope. The knucklehead is fit despite his lifestyle.

"You're about to tell me." I set the kettlebell down and dab at the sweat on my brow. I do have a problem—the guys all know it. My game has been off lately. I want to say it could be that my workouts are constantly interrupted by social plans. This fitness interval circuit is brutal because I have to cut out early today. The trainer adjusted my workout to break me down fast.

Spinner winks at me. “You need to get laid. You’re too deep in your own head.” He taps his temple with one finger. "Always reading, always thinking. Shakespeare this. Psychology that. You need to get out of your own skull." He gestures at his crotch.

I grip the weight and meet his eye for the first time since he started in on me today. ”Spinner."

"Yeah?”

"I'm busy."

He blinks. "Doing what?"

"I have an appointment."

Spinner scoffs. Across the weight room, Rookie glances up from the bench, raising his eyebrows. I don't elaborate. I don't owe these guys my personal life. I already revealed too much.

The truth is, I have been in my head, not in a good way. Coach pulled me aside and told me to get my tail into the team psychologist’s office. He is in charge of my livelihood, so I’m listening to him rather than my teammates.

I don’t even want to think about the impact on my family back home if I start riding the bench and my contract isn’t renewed.

I swing the kettlebell eight more times, set it down, and check my watch. I mutter a curse when I see that I am, in fact, going to be late if I don't leave now.

"An appointment," Spinner repeats, like the word tastes strange. "What kind of appointment?"

"The kind that's none of your business." I grab my bag from the bench. I'm almost to the door when I hear him behind me, still talking.

"Is it a date?" he calls. "It's a date, isn't it?"

I push into the hall without answering as he continues to hypothesize. Why doesn’t he just go home? I booked the last shrink appointment of the day on purpose because I didn’t want people like Spinner chatting me up about it.

I wanted to arrive early, sit alone in the waiting room, gather my thoughts. Instead, I’ve got this turnip tailing me, yapping about meeting up with hotties at the bookstore.

I stop just shy of the entryway to the suite of offices. The team psychologist—Odin Stag—has an office far enough from the workout room that Spinner probably hit his step count for the day stalking me. I turn to face him, arms crossed, and scowl at maximum force. “Spinelli,” I say, hoping his actual last name will snap some sense into him.

“Miller,” he drawls back at me, clapping a meaty hand on my shoulder.

I close my eyes and try a box breath. In for three, hold for three … fuck it. “If you don’t get the hell out of here, I’m going to date your mother.”