Keeping Score (Brooklyn Monarchs 3)

“Maybe the ice and massages did help.” Jaclyn’s words broke his pensive silence. “Or maybe the pain was in your head.”

Warrick stumbled and caught himself as he crested the incline. “You think I was faking it?”

“Of course not.” Her response was fast, firm, and disgusted. “I know you better than that. But I think it’s possible that your back pain was more psychosomatic than physical.”

Warrick struggled with a sense of betrayal. “Are you questioning my mental toughness?”

Jaclyn blinked as though someone had turned on the light in a very dark room. “Where are you getting these allegations?”

“Your own words.”

“You act as though I don’t know you.” She continued before he could speak. “I know your parents’ idea of encouragement is emphasizing whatever shortcomings they think you have.”

“They don’t—”

“I’ve seen them do it, Rick.” Jaclyn’s voice was thin and breathy as though she was running outside her comfort zone.

Warrick slowed his pace. “I can block out their criticism.” He could. He’d just have to work harder. “I’m not weak.”

“If you were weak, we wouldn’t be in the championship game.” Jaclyn’s voice was stronger now.

“Each win is a team effort.” Warrick wasn’t buying her denial.

He led Jaclyn around the turn in the asphalt pedestrian path and started back toward the arena. The course beside the water was brutally cold by winter but comfortably cool in the summer. Along most stretches, he enjoyed the smell of the marina. At other points, the stench of dead fish tested his gag reflex. Still, he loved running along the water. Warrick slowed his steps further.

Jaclyn kept pace with him. “The team’s contributions are important. But don’t undermine your role in the wins, Rick.”

He shook his head in exasperation. “If my role is so important, why are you questioning my mental toughness by suggesting my back pain’s in my head?”

“For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve held back all of your insecurities.” Jaclyn exhaled. “You don’t defend yourself when people criticize you, regardless of whether they’re justified. Instead, you become quiet and the stress manifests itself as backaches, headaches, and knee problems.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m defending myself right now.” His tone was dry. “So maybe your theory is wrong.”

“No, it’s not.” Jaclyn paused. “You’re arguing with me now to avoid discussing the cause of your stress.”

Warrick snorted. “When did your law degree become a license to practice psychology?”

“When we became friends.”

Her soft response took the edge off his temper. “We’ve already talked about my problems.”

“Yes, but not how you feel about them.”

Warrick blew out a breath. The arena—and his escape—was still too far away. “Ah, the feelings discussion.”

“Are you really going to let machismo stand between you and the championship?”

Warrick’s mental brakes came on. The worst part was she knew she’d gotten to him. That’s the kind of insight that came with twelve years of friendship. She was the bratty younger sister fate wouldn’t let him avoid.

“I’ll get us started.” Jaclyn’s tone held a wealth of concern. “There?

?s tension at home and on the team because of the media. You don’t know where to stand to get out of the storm.”

How did she know? His gaze shifted away from her sympathetic eyes. “That sums it up.”

Their hour-long run was almost at an end. They’d gone just over eight miles. The arena was coming into view. Two more miles—and freedom.

“You’re probably thinking that it’s time you made a choice.”