Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Closing his hand over hers, he swallowed, nodded. “Thanks.” It came out rough.
“You’re welcome. And Danny, don’t forget what we talked about. You can always climb back to the top.”
“I don’t want to be relegated… But yeah, I can work my way back.”
A ping on his phone.
“That’s my alarm to make sure I’m heading out the door.”
Nodding, Catie walked out with him after he grabbed his wallet and phone. When she slipped her hand into his, he closed his fingers around it and squeezed. She squeezed back, and it was good.
She came with him all the way to the underground carpark and his car. Where she kissed him one last time before stepping back.
“You’ve got this.” Her voice was fierce, her confidence in him unyielding.
26
CHANGES
Danny held Catie’s words close as he walked into the meeting room. It encouraged him to see the setup wasn’t super official, was instead a round table on which sat a carafe of coffee, a large glass pitcher of freshly squeezed juice, and a jug of water. Condensation beaded along the outsides of both the latter.
“Look, Dan,” his coach said after they’d all sat down, “I won’t lie, we’re worried about you.”
“I know. My form’s been shit.” No point in sugarcoating it.
One of the others around the table snorted. “Dan, your shit playing is still better than ninety percent of the players in the world.”
“That’s not good enough. I want to be better than ninety-nine percent.”
He got thoughtful looks and nods in return. Elite sport wasn’t for the tenderhearted or those without drive. It took grit and will and the ability to take tough criticism and use it to improve your game.
Sliding his hand into his pocket and closing it around the rock he’d given Catie, he looked toward his coach. “I’ve been working on the things we discussed to lower my error rate, and I’ve also been working through suggestions made by my brothers.” He listed them.
“I’d say we were impressed,” Coach Brook said, “but we are talking the Bishop-Esera crew.” A fond smile. “Those are all brilliant ideas and mesh well with what we talked about.”
Danny squeezed his fingers around Rick the Rock. “But?”
The people around the table looked at each other, and his chest clenched. Then he remembered what Catie had said: What’s the worst thing that could happen?
Yeah, he could work his way back. He was more than good enough. He just needed to get his head in the right space.
What he didn’t expect was for the team psychologist to take the lead in the conversation that came next.
He was still reeling over what the other man had to say when he walked out the door. The first thing he did was text his family: Still in the squad. He added a smiley face to make it seem everything was okay.
He knew they’d respond, but it’d be by text. They all knew to give a person space around something this big and stressful. As they knew that Danny would share everything when he was ready.
Right now, however, he found himself wanting to talk to only one person.
You free? he messaged.
Catie’s response came quickly. Of course I am. I was waiting to hear about your meeting.
I’ll come over.
Auckland traffic meant it took him around a half hour to make it to Catie’s—and he still hadn’t figured out how he felt about what had just taken place. When the elevator doors opened on Catie’s floor, he looked up to find her standing in the doorway to her apartment, waiting for him.
He strode to her.
“Hey, hotshot,” she said, slipping her arms around him and hugging him tight in that way of hers that was so warm and intense and wonderful.
Exhaling, he wrapped his own arms around her in turn, squeezed. The heat of her body, the scent of her, the feel of her, it felt right, so right.
“Come on,” she murmured at last and stepped back. “Let’s go inside.”
He let her take his hand and tug him into the apartment, let her nudge him to the couch while she pushed the door shut. He took off his jacket and tie along the way, left them hooked on a stool at the breakfast bar. But he didn’t truly relax until Catie came down on the sofa too.
She sat in her favorite spot—at the far end, with her legs stretched out. He shifted so that those legs were stretched out over him and he could stroke her thighs as he spoke. “Good news is that I’m still in the Harriers squad if I want to be.”
Catie frowned. “If you want to be?”
Shoving a hand through his hair, he dropped his head back against the sofa. “Yeah.” The fabric of her tights was soft under his palm, but he wished it was her skin. “Shrink says I need a break.”