Total pages in book: 170
Estimated words: 168980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 845(@200wpm)___ 676(@250wpm)___ 563(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 168980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 845(@200wpm)___ 676(@250wpm)___ 563(@300wpm)
Shit.
Ugh, I might have fucked that one up.
I back up a little and bump into Akara. “Sorry, Kits.” I tap the clipboard to his arm.
He smiles, and I notice Banks right next to him, a shadow of a smile playing at his lips. I start to smile back, but cramps come knocking full-force.
“Banks,” I whisper into a slight wince.
He rests a hand against my shoulder blades. “You feel alright?”
Akara studies the way I cradle an arm around my lower abs. “You have cramps?”
“Yeah,” I say tightly in pain and try not to draw attention from the swimmers or Coach Reed. “Banks, do you have any pain meds on you?”
He digs in his pocket and hands me a bottle of travel-sized Advil. Their concern bears down on me, and I wish I could draw into them. I wish I could hold on to Akara’s arm and sink into Banks’ chest. Imagining that physical comfort is good enough for now.
Akara goes and grabs my water bottle.
Banks keeps that comforting hand on my upper-back. “You need to go home early?”
I shake my head, watching Akara hurry back as I say, “I might be too unfiltered to be the best at coaching, but I can’t bail on my job. It’ll give the locker room a reason to call me a princess.”
“They call you a princess, just tell them you’re the fucking Icebox. No one messes with you.” He almost, almost affectionately draws me in, his hand nestled in my hair for a blip before he lets go.
My heart soars. Becky the Icebox. Our Little Giants talk in Yellowstone Country comes crashing back into me.
“What’s the Icebox?” Akara asks, handing me the water.
Banks makes a confused face at me. “You never watched Little Giants with Akara?”
I go red and throw back the pills with a big gulp of water.
“What’s that look for, Sul?” Akara asks, scrutinizing me with his playful smile. “I know you couldn’t have been embarrassed to watch a kids movie with me.” He tells Banks, “She made me watch The Little Mermaid a hundred times until I said mermaids are real.”
“It wasn’t a hundred fucking times,” I refute, trying to keep my voice down. “It was eight times, and you mumbled the words.” I shove the water back in his chest.
Hard.
He grunts.
I grin.
He shakes his head, smiling. “Tell me. If you like this Little Giants movie, why not let me watch it with you? I’ve seen all of your favorites.”
I shrug tensely. “Maybe I was afraid.”
His smile begins to fade. His eyes flit up and down me. “Afraid of what?”
I never intended to tell Akara this, but maybe I should. “That you’d love the part where Becky the Icebox drops her football gear and becomes a cheerleader. That you’d want the cheerleader,” I say hushed, “and I guess I never wanted to know the answer…because then it felt like you would never be attracted to me.”
He looks confused, shocked, and he glances cautiously to the swimmers in sight, then whispers, “Sulli, you’re hot.”
I can’t help but smile. “Yeah, I know you think that now, but back then, if we watched Little Giants together, who would you have picked? The football player or the cheerleader?”
His gaze cuts along the pool.
I go cold. “Yeah.” This is why I never fucking wanted to know. I’m about to leave, go back to work, but Akara catches my wrist.
“Sulli—”
“It’s fine, Kits. You can like girly girls. I’m not trying to bash them or anything.” They’re just not me.
“Back then, I would’ve chosen the cheerleader,” he admits, “but not because I would’ve liked her more.”
I frown, not understanding.
He explains, “If this Icebox chick even remotely reminded me of you, I wouldn’t have picked her in front of you. I wouldn’t have wanted to tempt anything there, between you and me.”
He wanted us to just be friends.
He liked it that way.
Our friendship meant too much to Akara to put it in jeopardy, but I can see now that he’s glad we rocked the fucking boat.
I look between Akara and Banks, smiling. And fuck, I need to stop chitchatting with my boyfriends while I’m working.
Swimmers really will start calling me a princess for paying more attention to my bodyguards than to them.
Luckily, no one has tried to haze me after the Sasquatch plushies. A hazing that I was not a witness to. Banks and Akara must’ve really intimidated them.
“I have to get back,” I tell them, waving the clipboard.
I love having Banks on my permanent detail, and I cherish the times where Akara joins him. Having both guys on my duty at the same time doesn’t happen as often as I’d hope (I’d want all the time—I’m fucking greedy), but Akara has attended every swim practice so far.
I think he has flashbacks from my Olympic training days, and he doesn’t want to miss this.