He laughed in my face. “No, you’re the only fucker who thinks studying will make a difference. We’ve got this game. So come on. We’re going out.”
“I’ll pass.”
“Do you know where we are?”
I bit the inside of my cheek. It was rhetorical, so I waited for him to answer for me.
“We’re in fucking Austin. Where the Warriors live. Where they eat. Where they drink. Where people think they aren’t the biggest dicks on the planet.”
“What’s your point, Stubbs?”
He crossed his arms. “Not only are we going to beat them tomorrow night, but we’re also going to beat them tonight. We’ll drink their liquor. Hit on their women. Party like they could only dream.”
The Wranglers liked to party. No—the Wranglers liked wicked debauchery. We threw the kind of parties you couldn’t mention at Thanksgiving dinner. Last year, as the ring leader of the rookie class, I was responsible for the Dean. It was a tradition to give the veterans a party that satisfied their every sinful need. And I did a pretty damn good job. We had high-stakes poker, strippers, and top-shelf liquor, and no one left without an A-list blowjob. But that didn’t mean I was up for it tonight. Things were different. I wasn’t a rookie anymore. I had to prove myself and I wanted that damn bonus this season.
“Get your ass out here, Sam,” Stubbs ordered.
“I’ll meet you.”
“Like hell you will.” He jammed his foot in the door. “Get your wallet and keys.”
I hung my head. Damn it. This was the last thing I wanted to do right now. Stubbs’ grin said everything when I met him in the hallway. Tonight was going to be Wrangler-level epic.
2
Natalia
I hung the shirt and clipped the tiny skirt to the hanger and scowled at my uniform. I hated it. Sometimes I didn’t want to even look at myself in the mirror when I had it on. Then there were the boots. Who wore gold metallic knee-high boots? I had wiped the scuff marks from them and placed them under the dance ensemble.
Calling it dance was a stretch. It was basically a stripper’s outfit. I didn’t know how anyone could feel Warrior pride wearing that thing, but the other girls on the squad did. They loved it. They loved the W on their chests. They loved the mini stars on their skirts. They didn’t care that half of the shirt was missing and the only reason they got attention was because of their bodies. It didn’t seem to bother any of them. Except me.
And I would have to put it on again tomorrow night for the game. I’d parade around showing off my toned thighs and stomach. I’d wave my hands in the air and dance to the techno music with a huge Texas-sized smile on my face. After all, I was a Warrior Goddess.
I was trained to be a professional dancer, but this wasn’t what I had in mind. I could win a Tony for the acting performance I gave on the sidelines.
I let my fingers trace over the satin ribbon dangling from my pointe shoes. They were on the second shelf of my closet. I hadn’t tried them on again since the accident. I was tempted to slide my feet into them and pirouette around my living room, but it wouldn’t help my mood any. It would only remind me I wasn’t doing what I loved. The knots in my stomach wound tightly.
It had been nine months since I had worn them, and I didn’t know when I’d be ready to try them on again. I hesitated for a second, thinking this could be the moment, but I stopped myself. I didn’t want to face what it might mean if my leg gave way. The shoes I loved had made me a prisoner to fear. I was scared my supporting leg would never hold me again.
It was one thing to shake my hips and do kicks toward a crowd of Warrior fans. It was something completely different to put all my trust in the ability of my hamstring to withstand the intense pressure of dancing with pointe shoes. My entire body relied on my right leg to work in perfect unison, and right now I didn’t have that trust in myself. I couldn’t try on the shoes.
Instead I turned off the closet light and pretended there wasn’t a dance squad uniform hanging inside. I would trade it out for a hundred tutus any day.
I was thinking about taking a walk to the park near my condo and picking up a salad on my way home for dinner when I heard my phone ring.
I grabbed it from the kitchen island. “Hello?”
“Natalia, what are you doing, girl?” It was Heather from the dance team.
“Not much. I was just headed out to pick up dinner.”
“Good. Then you can meet the rest of us for drinks.”
“Oh no, I’m not up for that. It’s Sunday night.”
“You’ll be the only one not there. You have to go. It’s a Goddess tradition.” She sounded bubbly and excited.
I rolled my eyes. “And what tradition is that?”