Emily followed after them, and then Becca finally moved when Liam gave her an impatient glance.
It was just he and I staring at each other over a field of worn grass. He still looked so angry and I was scared he might take it out on me. But when he finally spoke, there was only empathy in his voice.
"I'm not going to make you rat out the seniors, but this shit can't continue. That's not the way teams work and Coach Davis would be pissed if she knew this kind of thing was happening."
As if I didn't know that already.
"I'm not an idiot. I know, but I'm not going head-to-head with Tara this early on in the season. If she wants to wake me up and force me to work out, then I'll let her. It'll make the victory of making the Olympic team all the sweeter. It's the fact that she's picking on Becca and Emily that makes me mad."
"Becca and Emily weren't doing push-ups when I pulled up," Liam noted with a frown.
"That's because Emily barfed. The seniors thought I should keep going for everyone."
Liam wrapped his hands behind his head and then let his clenched fists fall back to his side. I met his hard stare, and for a moment I thought everything between us was about to finally explode. I thought he was about to explode.
"I won't let them treat you like that, Kinsley."
"Why do you care?" I asked, daring him to tell me the truth.
"I'm your coach," he answered too fast.
I pushed off my hands and stood up, staring straight into his dark grey eyes. "Well then consider your job done. Thanks for the help, Coach."
I moved to walk past him.
"If it doesn't stop, I'm bringing it up to Coach Davis," he said, reaching for my arm.
I paused as our body’s stood side by side. I was facing the field house and my impending doom. He was glancing out toward our field where the early morning sun was highlighting each of his chiseled features.
Coach Davis wouldn't kick Tara off the team for something like this, not if it was Tara's first offense. Most likely it would just be another nail in my coffin when it came to Tara. Of course he didn't see it that way.
"I can fight my own battles, Coach Wilder,” I hissed at him. “But you can do whatever you want. You always do. I'm going to go get ready for practice." I brushed past him and as my arm grazed his, the tension simmering between us buzzed through me, igniting my blood and awakening my senses like a shot of caffeine.
I knew I was being hard on him, but the entire situation pissed me off and he was the only person I could take it out on. Whatever was going on between us was fighting to surface, and that was the last thing I needed to worry about at the moment.
…
Later that night, Becca and I sat in my room while I tried to simultaneously think and not think about Liam Wilder. I felt bad for being harsh with him earlier, but the situation was frustrating to say the least. I never knew how he would treat me or how I was supposed to treat him. I needed to get my head straight and that’s what Becca was there for.
"So, let's recap," Becca announced, pulling my dry erase board off my wall and erasing the list of Game of Thrones characters ranked in order of hotness. Not my fault I have a thing for Jamie Lannister… hand or no hand.
"Hey! I needed those," I protested.
"Yeah, right. We both know you have them memorized. Besides, you can’t think he’s hot. He bangs his sister."
"Yeah, whatever. Start your recap so we can simplify my life, please."
Becca nodded before shutting both of my doors and turning on music so our voices were drowned out.
"Let's start at the beginning," she said, starting to write at the top of the white board.
Reasons Kinsley SHOULDN'T think about Liam:
1. Cheated on by two ex boyfriends. Conclusion: guys are dicks. Don't date them.
I took the marker out of her hand and started writing number two and three.
2. GOALS: Olympics and ULA training schedule –> NO TIME FOR GUYS!
3. He's COMPLETELY off limits. (Kicked off team off-limits.) BACK AWAY FROM HIM STAT.
Becca nodded and then grabbed the marker again.
4. He's a badboy. (Reformed or not) Refer back to #1 and multiply it by ten.
Then, finally, I wrote number five.
5. He doesn't like me. And/or actively hates me.
"Good work," Becca said, recapping the marker and propping the list up next to my dresser. "Doesn't it feel better already? I mean those are five solid reasons you should just forget about him altogether."
"Exactly," I agreed, but my voice didn't seem very convincing. What the hell was wrong with me? Did he need to also be a crazy puppy killer before my libido finally said, all right maybe he’s not for you?