A second bell rings out through the crowd.
“Troublemaker, we’ve got to go.”
My heart doubles at his name for me, but especially with the close proximity. I was so overwhelmed by seeing my students, I didn’t notice he’d stopped with me to greet them. I look over and see that the rest of our team didn’t stop, and I kind of like that he didn’t just leave me. Not that I can’t take care of myself or anything, but it’s nice.
“Who’s this, Ms. B?” Shane gives him a look that says he’s not impressed, and I notice Gator just smirk. Everyone’s always impressed when they see him, and if they say they aren’t, they’re lying. Which is how I know Shane is just putting on his tough guy act, his chest literally puffing out in his attempt to show muscles he doesn’t have.
Who would have thought that two people in one day would try to stick by me? Talk about warming a girl’s heart.
“Oooo, did Ms. B get a boyfriend?” Erica crows, and the group of girls start giggling while the boys just seem to look at him with both a sense of awe and dread.
But me? I just turn red.
“No, it’s nothing like that. He’s on my team. Him and a couple of his brothers.”
“Brothers? You mean there’re more like him? Are any of them still in high school?” One of my girls looks on with hope and, dare I say it, little hearts in her eyes.
I refuse to be jealous of a seventeen-year-old—well, more than I already am, since they have more sex than me. But I will not feel bad that I can’t have a clear dreamy look in my eyes without worrying about the what-ifs of the future and what could happen once people learned about us. Too much past trauma keeps me from having those hopes and dreams.
“Nah, Hounds of the Reaper don’t recruit till you pass high school.”
As soon as Gator mentions the Hounds, the entire dynamic changes. Well, not for the girls. They might look even more in love now, if that’s even possible. The boys? Well, they went from apprehensive to full-on hero worship. Not that I blame them. From what I’ve seen of the Hounds, they’re a pretty incredible group of guys. They stand up for the weak, help those in need, even do a freaking toy drive. Though they do it while cussing and growling and throwing the occasional punch if someone pisses them off. They are bikers, after all.
“Bailey!” My name being called in that overdramatic way Jordan likes to use when he’s pissed at me for doing something wrong at the gym makes its way over the crowd to us. I sometimes have nightmares about that voice. Jordan is nice, but when he gets into trainer mode, he’s a monster. And it looks like my own personal monster just showed up.
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
I turn from looking at Jordan waving frantically at us to get to the group to see Gator standing even closer. He said it so low, I don’t think my students heard it.
I look over at them and notice the smirks on their faces. They might not have heard what he said, or had any idea what I said, since I had no clue that I said it out loud, but they get that the distance between us has diminished substantially.
“Right, I guess that’s my cue. Thanks again for coming, everyone.”
“We’ll see you after the race.” Hunter makes a point to show he isn’t leaving. None of them are till I cross that finish line.
I smile brightly and feel pressure behind my eyes but refuse to let the tears break through. I nod and turn to my team. A team that has a very yummy Gator who wants to be my protector against the evil trainer who will surely try to push me harder than I’ve ever trained before.
A girl could do worse.
Chapter 11—Gator
“Your dick fallen off yet?” Bass snickers as I stand in line for a beer with him.
“Fuck off,” I growl, and he just laughs more at my pain. Typical asshole. “How’s your head?” I sneer as I move forward in the absurdly long line. Someone should shoot the moron who thought that only one booth should serve alcohol at an event that practically demanded an after-party for everyone involved.
“It’s fine. Actually, never been better.” His grin has me groaning internally.
Of course he would be the only bastard that would go from a full-on hangover hating the world to feeling rejuvenated after running a few miles and doing a few interesting obstacles. None of them were too hard, but a few were interesting. Never had to climb in and out of shipping containers before. Might be a good one to add to our training facility. That was some interesting teamwork we did to get us out of there. It was easy to get in, as the container had grooves on the outside, but it was completely smooth on the inside.
Which didn’t help the semi I’d been sporting since the moment I showed up here. Bailey looked fucking edible with her tight workout leggings and white shirt, her hair, blonde and naturally wavy, pulled back into a tight ponytail. I just wanted to wrap it around my hand as I pulled her mouth to mine. But that was before I watched her boobs bounce as she ran. I was even more in awe from the way her ass flexed in my face as I helped her jump out of the container by holding my hands together like a step and pushing her up to Jordan, who was already halfway out.
Bass knew that I’d been having a hard time this morning.Hardbeing the operative word. The only saving grace was the number of times I crawled on my stomach, forcing my dick to get hit repeatedly by the earth. If she saw me hard, she did her amazing act of ignoring it and pretending it didn’t exist, while everybody else just smirked and continued to run beside me.
When we finally get to the front of the line, I order enough beers for the entire group. Even though Bass, Flint, and I have worked together before, it’s the first time any of us have had a woman on something equivalent to a mission. And I can’t say that I hate it. Of course, that might just still be my dick talking. The guy might have gotten beaten up pretty badly all morning, but he still has his eye on the prize.
I’m not surprised to see that Bailey’s students are still around when we make it back to the picnic tables we claimed and set the drinks down. Hell, they were her biggest support system the entire time, screaming her name and yelling at her to keep going. They almost screamed louder than Jordan.
That guy is a beast. I’ve never had to deal with him in a training environment before, but he put some of my drill instructors to shame. Probably why I don’t even blink when I notice Flint is talking to him quietly, no doubt trying to get him to help with some of the training programs we have going on for our mercenary side job. Which I still don’t think is the correct term for it. We might get paid to do things, but we’re more into the rescuing of it all, not just the money.
