Stone Creek by Davis, Lainey (reading diary .TXT) 📕

“Justin has me on a rotation with the swim team,” she says, nodding her head toward Slim Jim.

“Thank god,” the asshole says from the table, groaning in relief as she pulls off the last sticker. That mother fucker doesn’t even have any hair on his damn legs.

“Like hell you’re working with the swim team,” I grunt. Another trainer comes over to me, some girl with dark hair and a beauty mark.

“Hey, Baxter,” she says like she knows me. “I’m going to roll you out today, ok?”

“No!” I’m shouting now and everyone in the room turns to look. “Olive always works with me.” Olive flushes as Justin steps out of the office. I know what this is about. I cock blocked that squirmy jerk and he’s pulling a power play. I’m very familiar with men who like to pull shit like this when they feel threatened.

“Is there a problem here, Mr. Morgan?” He walks up to the table and stands with his arms crossed, like he’s not half my size.

“Yeah. You can’t switch trainers on me.” I’m not going to be polite. I know what I’m worth in this program. “Get Coach Burns in here.” I’m not going to fuck around with this guy’s power trip. I’m going right for the big guns.

But Justin leans forward and gets in my face. “I could do that,” he says. “Or you could be reasonable. Working with the swim team will allow Olive the real, hands-on experience she needs to get accepted into a graduate athletic training program. With funding,” he adds and glares at me. “Do you really want to deny her that opportunity so she can rub a foam roller on your legs every afternoon?”

Son of a bitch. I hate this fucking guy. I can’t think right now, so I flop on my stomach and glare at him while whats-her-name gets working on my back.

“Hey,” Scotty says to me from where he’s sprawled on the table next to me getting worked on by another trainer. “Be happy for Olive. This is a good opportunity for her—right?”

I don’t say anything. On the surface, this looks like a win for her. But I’m uneasy, because I know what I saw last night. I don’t know what Justin’s game is here, but I don’t fucking like it. Plus now I have to figure out how to make it clear to the swim team that my girl is off limits. This year was supposed to be easy for me outside of football.

Lift hard. Hit hard. Run hard. The rest is supposed to be cake. I just have to make it through the draft combine this spring with no drama.

I sigh and try to relax, except Beauty Mark goes a little rough on my hamstrings.

After I get stretched out and given the green light, I catch Olive’s eye. She waves at me while she’s checking out someone’s arm. I hate how much she has to have her hands on all these shirtless dudes. They’re not stupid. They know Olive is hot as hell, even if she has no idea. She’s all blonde waves and soft curves.

Curves that no guy here—including me—should fantasize over.

Olive doesn’t need me destroying her dreams. I’m not the only one with goals. She left her parents behind to drink themselves to death and hasn’t looked back. She’s applying to the best graduate programs in the country and she’s always talking about what experiences she needs to look good for earning funding.

But fuck if I’m going to be functional right now. I’m too worked up.

“Scotty,” I shout over the noise in the locker room. “I need to get laid.”

“Yeah, man, you fucking do.” Scotty claps me on the back and we head to the bars. I need to clear my head or I’m going to burst. Or hit someone. I try not to think about Olive’s confused face as I blew out of the training room—I know she heard me say that I’m on the prowl. I’ll check in with her tomorrow and everything will make sense again.

Finnegan and JT are already at the bar when Scotty and I roll in. The guys from the team are sprawled around a table near the bar, and word has gotten out that the SCU football team is in the house. The place is packed, and it seems like everyone is trying to come up to us. With his injury, JT has attracted double the number of jersey chasers looking to nurse his wounds. In no time, I’ve got a drink in my hand and a girl on my lap—some redhead in little shorts who wriggles around too much.

I wouldn’t even need to try to get her to go with me into the bathroom. It’s what I usually do. It’s what I came here for. But something just feels off. I don’t know if it’s because I didn’t get enough sleep last night or if I’m just pissed that Olive will be with the swim team this season instead of with me where she belongs. With me…I don’t even let myself think about her that way.

“Hey, sweetheart,” I say to the girl on my lap. “Can I get you to shift over to a seat? I think I really hurt my leg today at practice…”

She doesn’t get the hint. She coos up at me and starts trying to massage my leg with her tiny hands, poking at my thigh. I excuse myself to use the restroom, and as I’m coming back to the table, I see she has moved on to someone else.

I sigh in relief, and then feel an overwhelming urge to get the hell out of here. Something must be really wrong with me if I don’t even want to stick around here. I catch Finnegan’s eye and