Lenley
THE PAST FEW DAYS HAVEbeen busy as the first big skydiving event at state level is just around the corner.
The guys have been busy training, jumping in the mornings and working on more intense conditioning in the afternoons. That hasn’t left them with a ton of time or energy to continue my own special “training,” but against my expectations each of the Cove Devils has been in touch.
Peyton has been calling me at night to say goodnight and to tell me about his day and hear about mine.
I like that hearing his voice has been the last thing I do before I fall asleep. In a way it reminds me a little of what I used to do with Darrius until the night of my eighteenth birthday last year; but talking to Peyton is completely different than it was with my best friend.
Peyton openly flirts with me and when we hang up and I drift off to sleep, I don’t find myself obsessing over the meaning of everything he said.
With Darrius I used to analyze every word in the hope that he’d give away the real nature of his feelings toward me. I was constantly hoping that our relationship would turn from the close, brotherly bond we had since forever into a boyfriend and girlfriend kind of love.
It never really happened and every time Darrius talked about love, it would be when he had a new girlfriend.
This is different and the same in a way; different because Peyton makes no mystery of the attraction he feels for me and the same, because he made it abundantly clear from the beginning that he and his friends don’t do relationships or girlfriends.
Channing sends me dick pics.
I absolutely love them and find them so fucking hot. The last time we were together, I didn’t get to touch him as he was forced to watch me go down on Peyton and Jameson as punishment for blowing off work to take me on a date.
But I haven’t forgotten the way it felt when I was in his arms, in the bed of his truck. Truth be told, that was how I always imagined a date with a boyfriend would be.
I know Channing isn’t any different than his two teammates and he isn’t looking for a girlfriend, but I feel really close to him. To the point that he almost convinced me to send him naked pictures of myself.
Almost.
I feel too self-conscious, even though Channing has seen me naked. So I’ve been playing with angles and placing pillows or towels in all the strategic places.
He saved my name into his phone as “cocktease” because of it but he isn’t angry about my shyness, he’s coaxing me out of my shell more and more every day.
I brace myself as I enter the reception area of the Cove Angels Headquarters.
I’ve been working from home on most days, but Mom and Kyle are both adamant that I attend the two weekly staff meetings on Monday and Friday.
Kiara is looking at her phone with Rachel and giggling; it’s obvious those two aren’t even pretending to be doing any work.
My ex-bestie is seriously taking advantage of her status as Darrius’ girlfriend and she thinks she’s untouchable.
Her attitude annoys me beyond belief, but I know better than to say anything about it because I know she’s going to go to Darrius and say that I’m jealous.
I walk past the reception desk on my way to the executive offices, doing my best not to look at the two women.
I stop in my tracks when the door of the training area is slammed so hard that the glass panes in it rattle.
“What is this fucking bullshit?” Darrius bellows storming inside, still in his training, ultra-slim wingsuit and carrying his helmet.
He’s marching in my same direction and I’m about to follow him, startled by the string of curses that he keeps spewing as he walks.
“Babe!” Kiara gasps, “what’s going on?”
“Not now, Kiara!” he snaps, opening the door to Mom’s office without knocking.
I rush after him, wondering why he’s acting like a fury from hell.
“Oh good morning, Darrius. Lenley, sweetheart.” Mom greets us with a smile, oblivious to the murderous expression in Darrius’ eyes.
There’s a another ridiculously huge bouquets of flowers on her desk and she has a card in her hands.
Her new relationship must still be going strong.
Darrius stops in front of her desk. “Tell me that the three members of the Cove Devils in my locker room are still drunk from whatever party they must’ve been at last night! Tell me that they aren’t seriously training here!” He’s literally shaking with barely repressed fury, his jaw ticking, his fists clenched to the point that his knuckles are white.
Mom sets the little card from the flowers on her desk. “Good morning to you too, Darrius,” she says calmly.
“Gina, tell me that those motherfuckers are just here to pick a fight with us! Or that being invited to the museum’s opening has made them delusional enough to think that they can use our fucking wind tunnel to train?”
Mom doesn’t react to his clipped tone. “The Cove Devils are here under my express invitation, Darrius. They don’t have a wind tunnel at their training facility and you know better than me that the closest one is one hour away. The weather has been bad all week so they couldn’t jump, and I invited them to come over here.”
Darrius is so furious that he doesn’t detect the steely undertone in Mom’s voice; Mom is one of the calmest, most soft spoken people I know, but taking that for weakness is a huge mistake.
Darrius has been around her his entire life and he should know better than to question her right now. “Seriously?” he yells. “That’s why we fucking built the damn wind tunnel in first place! To have an advantage over our rivals and to be able to train even when the weather is bad without driving an hour each way! What’s the point of having all these fucking perks if we share them with our competitors? Especially the fucking Devils!”
Mom’s voice goes up by just an octave and that’s what finally gets Darrius to realize that he’s in trouble. “Darrius, you’re the Angels captain and your father co-owns the team, but I’d like you to remember who’s the CEO here.”
Darrius is still angry, but he stops yelling. “Does Dad know that you invited our rivals to train here?”
Mom crosses her arms over her chest. “Kyle knows. But like I just reminded you, I have the final word here. This bad blood with the other team in town has to end. The fights, the digs during interviews, turning a night that should’ve been about celebrating our legacy into a dick measuring contest—a contest we actually lost—have to end. Your behavior at the opening is exactly why I invited them. To remind you that this is a ‘sport’ and it should bring people together, not cause division. When Patrick was captain of the Angels, he often trained with his rivals. They’d jump together and—”