Training camp began two days ago, and so far, it’s been brutal as hell. It’s been early mornings, two-a-days, hitting the weight room, team meals, team bonding, and meeting the coaches and training staff. Call me a masochist, but I’ve loved every second of it. Getting to compete at this level is what I’ve been working for since middle school. It’s why I’ve sacrificed missing countless weekends with friends, school dances and events, and even dates with boys.
So far, the upperclassmen have been welcoming to me, Katie, and the two other freshmen, Alexa and Brooke. I’ve been surprised to find how tight-knit the team is already, even though we’re all competing with each other this week—giving our all to stand out to make the final roster, get playtime, and become starters.
Coach Hendrix has already pushed me harder than any other coach has, and it’s only the first week. Katie and I are both playing well. Our connection on the court shines through during every drill and scrimmage we compete in on the same team.
I was completely spent by the time our team dinner was over tonight, but when I got back to our dorm, a package was waiting for me at the security desk. I thanked Fred, the security guard on duty, and then headed upstairs to take a much-needed shower.
I nearly forgot about the package until I was ready to crash on my bed, where I set it before my shower.
My exhaustion wanes a little as I open the box and discover the contents. Inside the box is a card that reads:
Sunshine, I just signed a deal with this company, and I told my agent I’d only do it if I could get you one to use as well. I know you’re crushing it at training camp. Hope this helps recover your sore muscles on days I can’t be there to massage them for you. xx—G
My heart stutters the way it always does when it comes to Griff. I put the card on my nightstand table. It’s probably weird, but I’ve kept every little card and note he’s given me so far. I know I’ll want to look at them when we’re in the thick of our long-distance phase.
I turn back to the box and grab what looks like a hard shell carrying case. I open the case to find a rechargeable massage gun with several different detachable heads.
After putting the battery in and attaching a sphere-shaped tool, I FaceTime Griff.
He answers on the second ring, his shirtless chest and chiseled jaw filling my phone screen. “Hey, Sunshine.”
“Hi, baby. Guess what?” I ask, but I don’t wait for his reply. “I got a package in the mail today.”
As soon as the little machine starts percussion, massaging my sore quad muscles, I moan. It probably sounds like I’m masturbating, but this might honestly be more satisfying than getting myself off.
“Jesus, Kenna. I think we’re going to have to add FaceTime sex to our long-distance arsenal. The sounds you’re making from just that massage gun touching your quads make me think I should get you something smaller to massage your clit while I’m away.”
“I don’t have any toys.” I feel my cheeks heat as soon as the words leave my mouth. It’s not that I’m opposed to them, I’ve just never been able to bring myself to purchase one.
Griff’s smile turns devilish. “Consider it done. Now, tell me how training camp went today.”
I continue to massage my sore muscles, practically purring from the relief I’m already feeling. “It went really well. Coach played me and Katie on the starter’s side of the court for a few drills and our last scrimmage of the day. Hopefully, that means we’ll see a little playtime in some of the games this season.”
“That’s my girl! You and Katie both worked your asses off this summer, so your coach was bound to see that. Mark my words. You’ll be a starter by the end of the season.”
I smile down at his face on my screen. “Your confidence is both sexy and slightly misplaced. I think Katie has a good chance of beating out Zoe for the starting setter position, but I’ve got two other girls vying for the same outside hitter position.”
“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but my girl is a beast on the court. Her nickname in high school was Mack Attack because every hit was a kill.”
“You’re a dork,” I tell him, shaking my head.
“Yeah, but you still miss me like crazy,” he retorts.
“You’re right, I do. Why can’t it be Friday night yet?” I whine.
Griff’s answering chuckle plays through my speakers like a soothing melody. “Only two more sleeps until I get to fall asleep with you in my arms.”
“Jeesh, I need to watch my back. I’ve got a stage-five clinger on my hands. Counting down the sleeps until we’re together again?”
I can’t wait to fall asleep in his arms and be cocooned in his warmth.
Griffin Turner has turned me into an addict, and I can’t complain one bit.
Friday morning brings the first warning signs that I can’t ignore. My back started aching as soon as I woke up, and my boobs felt heavy andsore like I’ve got two sacks of sand in my sports bra. I’m praying I can make it through this final day of training camp before Mother Nature drives a stake through my uterus.
I’ve been dealing with my endometriosis symptoms since they started progressively getting worse freshman year of high school. Unfortunately, the combination of being an early bloomer and my family history of endo means my symptoms have become intense—sometimes debilitating.
I’ve been on birth control since my freshman year of high school. My doctor suggested taking progesterone-only pills so my estrogen levels wouldn’t get any higher. My periods have been irregular—sometimes, I can go up to three months without getting one. My last period was before graduation and lasted over a week, with cramps so intense I had to miss several days of school.
