Page 63 of Forever Relentless

And now, whether I wanted it or not, I had the three stooges to contend with.

Sounds of shouting, clamoring, and ridiculously loud music, along with the energy of a thousand rabid dogs, permeated the air as I approached the training facility.

I was well-practiced in the life of an athlete. Mason had been invested in his football career from a young age. The five a.m. practices began the summer before high school, and they never stopped.

Even now, he got up and pushed his body to the limit at an ungodly hour, training for a game he would never play, before going to work.

The thought of my brother pushing his body to the limits for nothing was the reason I gave the head douchebag a small wave as I made my way to the sidelines.

Fuck you, asshole. I’ll see you rot one day.

I dumped my stuff in a pile, as I had every morning since I was given this assignment, I picked up my camera and did what I always did. I moved around the facility, getting good shots of the team as they trained.

At one point, I settled into a corner of the facility with the main area spread out before me and just watched them interact. I zoomed in on Spence and Slater as they laughed at something Jason Moore, the tight end, said. Another shot of the freshman Whittaker looking at Matthews with obvious hero worship. I made a mental note to delete that one later. Because holy hell, what happened to him? He was beaten up badly. That’s why I would delete it. Nothing to do with the look of adoration he was giving Tall, Dark, and Sexy.

Stop it.

I had a great shot of Noah slamming into the sled. The dust particles coming off the apparatus from the impact gave the shot a rather ethereal quality. His eyes were narrowed in focus. I don’t know who he was imagining as he pushed that sled up the field, but I hoped he left the aggression there.

“Media!”

“Asshole,” I mumbled, but I turned to look at Kevin-the-Ass as he strode toward me. A quick glance over his shoulder told me Coach Sutherland was no longer on the training pitch. I searched for TJ Hembry, but he was missing as well. Shit, I didn’t like the look in Kevin’s eye as he approached, and I got to my feet.

“You trying to be funny?” he demanded.

“I don’t understand—”

“You tried to get me in trouble with the boss?”

“Did I?”

Careful, Briar, meek and timid, remember?

He was so close to me that I took a step back. He didn’t need to be in my personal space like this. He moved forward with me. And I was pissed at myself for moving. I never move. Because you never give the bully ground.

“Do you need to be so close to me?” My voice had more edge than usual.

“You told Sutherland a lot of bullshit yesterday. I don’t appreciate being made to look like a fool.”

“But you do it so well.” Fuck.

His face changed. “What the fuck did you just say to me?” he stepped close enough that his chest nearly brushed mine.

“She said you’re crowding her and making a fool of yourself,” Noah said from behind him.

Kevin turned. Whatever he was going to say died on his tongue when he took in the six-foot-four solid wall of linebacker that was standing there, cold as a blade.

“You good?” Noah asked me without taking his eyes off Kevin.

“I’m fine, you don’t need to be involved.”

If he was surprised by the bite in my voice, he didn’t show it. He kept his eyes on Kevin.

“Coach, do you need the media girl for anything in particular?”

Media girl?

Kevin’s gaze flicked between us. “You screwing her? I mean, I can see—”