“Missed it, but Gunner was talking about it. He told me Collins is going pro after this season. Good for him.”
“He’s no Tiger Woods but he has great potential,” Jason says just as the team wraps up and starts emptying out of the room.
When there are only a few stragglers left, Jason and I enter the weight room and both hop on the treadmills where we do a light five-minute jog to warm up our legs. Not that I need it at this point, but Jason’s muscles are probably still cold.
“Hey boys, didn’t think I’d be seeing you two this early in the morning,” Vinny, the head trainer says, coming up to our treadmills and lacing his beefy hands on the arm grips.
“Got an early start and did some batting practice,” I say between some light breathing. “Thought we’d get our weights out of the way today.”
“Smart. Well, your workouts are in your files. It’s leg day today. Your usual trainers aren’t here but Milly and Jerry are both on the floor if you need someone to spot you. I’ll be in my office if you have any questions.”
“Thanks, Vinny,” Jason says as he picks up the pace. I do the same, matching his speed.
“Have a good one.” He pats our treadmills and takes off.
Once he’s out of earshot, Jason says, “I still think he’s banging Elle in the training room. Whenever they’re around each other you can cut the tension with a knife.”
“Is that rumor still floating around? No way.” I shake my head. “Elle is too young for him.”
“Eight years isn’t much.” Jason shrugs. “He’s a charismatic guy.”
“That’s true. I swear I get butterflies whenever he winks at us.”
Jason roars in laughter and slows his treadmill at the exact moment we hit five minutes. “I knew you felt a little something for Vinny. I could see it in your eyes.”
“It’s his bald head, there’s something about it that makes me want to rub my bare scrotum all over it.”
He chuckles all the way to where our workout files are. “There’s something seriously wrong with you, man. I have no idea how Knox and Holt put up with you.”
“They would stroke my ego quite often actually. Maybe that’s what’s wrong with my batting, I need someone to stroke me.” I press my hand against his back and whisper into his ear. “Will you stroke me, Jason?”
“Get the fuck out of here.” He pushes me away, laughing.
I snag my workout file from him and check out what’s in store for my legs today.
Lateral-weighted squats, box jumps, dead lifts, parallel squats, front lunges . . . great.
I glance at Jason. “Thank fuck we’re doing this now.”
“Tell me about it. My legs would be fucked if we did this right before practice.”
We both walk over to the free weights, claim a station, and begin racking up our bars. Vinny makes it easy on us and tells us how much weight and how many reps for each set, gradually increasing the weight as we move on. It’s mindless work, and we have to go through the correct motions to get the work done. He even provides little check boxes on the paper where we can check off every exercise. Makes us feel like we’re accomplishing something.
“Do you need any help?” I look to the side where a buff blond dude is standing, wearing a green athletic trainer shirt and khaki shorts. This must be one of the guys Vinny was talking about. What were their names again?
I stand up tall and lend out my hand. “Carson, what’s your name?”
With a huge smile on his face, he takes my hand and says, “Jerry, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Jerry, cool. Yeah, we’re just warming up right now, but once we get into the heavy sets, we might need a spot.”
“Great. I can get Milly to help out as well.”
Milly, huh, must be short for Miller.
“Sure, call him over in a few once we have these warm ups over with.”
“She.”
“What?”
“She. Milly is a girl.”
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry.” I chuckle. “That was a dick thing to assume.”
“Nah, she’s considered one of the guys anyway. She might be a small thing but she’s tough.”
A small thing? I’m about to squat two hundred fifty pounds today. Do I really want a “small thing” spotting me?
Before I can ask if she’s strong enough to help, Jerry calls out, “Mills, can you come here?”
“Yup,” I hear a girl reply from the weight room office.
My eyes carry to where her familiar voice came from, and I blink a few times to make sure I’m seeing correctly.
Is that . . .
Panini line girl?
No, it can’t be . . . is it?
I lean forward a little more as she approaches, trying to get a better look. I think that’s her, but she looks so different. Instead of an oversized shirt and her hair dancing over her face so I can barely see what she looks like, she’s wearing a form-fitting athletic training shirt, khaki shorts that touch just above her knee, and her hair is pulled back low at the nape of her neck and braided. Her big brown glasses adorn her face that doesn’t have an ounce of makeup. She’s tiny, smaller than I recall, and there’s a swell at her hips I can appreciate, something to grip on to. But what really catches my attention are all the freckles that dot her face. They’re . . . pretty.
When she looks up from her clipboard and makes eye contact with me, she trips right into Jerry.
“Careful there, Mills.” Hands on her shoulders he steadies her.
“Panini girl,” I say before I can stop myself. The name causes her brow to crease.
“Oh, that’s right, you two were in line together.” From the smile that’s pulling at the ends of Jerry’s mouth, I’m assuming he didn’t forget we’ve already met.
Clamping her clipboard to her side and standing tall—as tall as she can—she says, “Yes, we were in line together yesterday.” In a very emotionless voice, she asks, “Did your panini treat you fine?”
What? Who talks like that?
I chuckle and rub the back of my head. “Yeah, it was delightful in all the right ways,” I answer, mocking her. “No bowel issues, if that’s what you were wondering.”
Her nose scrunches up. “I really wasn’t.”
“Ah, so since you already know each other, why don’t you two work together and I’ll take Jerry,” Jason says with a wicked gleam.
I eye the runt next to me and then look over at the beefy Jerry and his expansive chest, then back at the runt. I think I got the short end of the stick—no pun intended.
I lift more than Jason at this point, so there is no way I’m going to be spotted by panini line girl.
“Not a good idea. I lift a lot.”
“She can handle it,” Jerry says, defending his friend and moving to Jason’s side of the weight rack.
I give her a once-over. “My arm is thicker than your leg. No way can you spot me.”
Clearly offended, she says, “Try me.”
“I’d rather not break you.”
“Give her a chance,” Jerry chimes in. “I think she’ll surprise you, plus, she’s a wealth of knowledge when it comes to baseball.”