The Hunter (Boston Belles 1)

“Very well. I’ll take this into consideration. In the meantime, you will continue training as usual.”

“Junsu…” I took a breath, shaking my head. “I can’t.”

“This is the way I train. In truth, you cannot afford two weeks off.”

“But I—”

“You will train, or you will look for another trainer.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong.” I heard a voice behind my back as the door to Junsu’s office swung open. Hunter swaggered in, looping my car keys around his finger.

I closed my eyes and drew a ragged breath. Please, God, no.

“She’s on a two-week rest period. Doctor’s orders.” Hunter towered a head and some change over Junsu, even from his place by the door, across the room. “C’mon, Sailor. Let’s hit the road.”

“You.” Junsu narrowed his eyes at Hunter, his entire body shaking with quiet, simmering rage. “You took her to a doctor she doesn’t know like it’s a butcher shop. You don’t know who she is, her athletic profile. How should I know you don’t want to obstruct her Olympic quest?”

“How?” Hunter blinked, making a show of treating Junsu like a world-class idiot. He was good at it—a hurricane you wanted to chase, jam-crammed with charisma, humor, and self-assurance. “Hmm, let’s see. First of all, I’m not a psycho. Second, yeah, again, I’m not a goddamn psycho. Thirdly, why would I want to hinder Sailor’s efforts? And even if I would, because I’m an ungodly asshole of massive proportions, why would I go through the incredible, excruciating effort of bribing a doctor into breaking his Hippocratic Oath?”

He let that sink in for a second before continuing. “Besides, it’s only two weeks, not two months. Things could get far worse for her if she continues using that Hulk-sized shoulder.” Hunter jerked his chin. “How do I know you’re not trying to hinder her Olympic efforts?” He folded his arms over his chest, squinting at Junsu comically. “Making her train in this state and pushing her around.”

To my surprise, Junsu began to cough, taking a good ten seconds to breathe regularly again.

“Are you accusing me of something? She needs to train.”

“She needs to rest,” Hunter countered, stepping deeper into the room. “And if you suggest otherwise one more time, or threaten to quit training her because she’s following doctor’s orders, I swear I’ll take this to the local news and tell every asswipe who gives a crap that you’re putting your athletes at risk.”

That shut Junsu up fast. I got up and snatched my bag before the two of them decided to exchange more than just words. “Stop, both of you. Junsu, you’re right. I can’t afford taking time off. But Hunter is also right. My shoulder is useless right now, and things can get much worse if I don’t let it rest. I need to attend physical therapy and get steroid shots. To put your mind at ease, I’ll go to another doctor, get a second opinion.” I shot him an apologetic smile. “I promise I will take no longer than two weeks, and in the meantime, I’ll watch my videos and make notes about my strengths and weaknesses.”

“Your main weakness,” Junsu spat, his eyes still trained on Hunter behind me, “is standing in front of me.”

“Helicopter trainer.” Hunter threw a cinnamon gum into his mouth, chewing purposefully loudly. “Clam-jamming her ain’t gonna make her aim any better.”

“Stop.” I pushed Hunter toward the door, pivoting back to Junsu one last time.

“I’ll come tomorrow so we can talk, okay? We’ll figure it out.”

A beat of silence that stretched between us, about to snap like a rubber band against raw skin.

Finally, Junsu nodded. “Keep him away from here.”

“I will,” I promised, shoving Hunter out the door and closing it gently.

The minute we were outside, I threw my hands in the air, widening my eyes at him, awaiting explanation.

“I said I’d give you ten minutes. Twenty passed before I got my ass out of the car. Twenty-five when I heard him yelling at you from across the goddamn hallway. Remind me, how bad do we want this Olympic gig?”

Since when was there a we?

I rolled my eyes and started for the exit. “Very freaking bad.”

Hunter caught my stride easily, and I felt my anger subsiding. As much as I wanted to keep my distance from him, I had no concrete reason to dislike him. On the contrary, he was kind of awesome, in his own roundabout way.

“Let me buy you brunch.” Hunter draped his arm over my shoulder. It was muscular, warm, and protective. I thought about all the girls who’d slept with him, how his weight must’ve felt on top of them. His sheer manhood stirred me. I didn’t swat his arm away, even though every fiber in my body suggested I should. Strongly so.

Actually, I could use some protein to rebuild all that torn-up muscle.