My legs were heavy, and my arms felt just as leaden after all the conditioning we’d been doing, but it was the good kind of heavy that made me feel like I was pushing my body to its limits and improving. I planned to buckle down that night, go over more film and revisit the plays we were working on.
“Better work on that grip strength before Sunday’s game, McRae.” Nance had turned around to face me, walking backward as he grabbed his crotch. And yeah, I’d fumbled the ball during goal post drills earlier. So had a couple of our other receivers. The dude never missed a chance to fuck with me or call me out, though.
“Shower next to me, and I’ll show you all about grip strength.” I flipped him off, and a chorus of hoots followed from Simmons and Jarrick. It was an easy quip, mostly lighthearted, but Nance sneered.
“Don’t bring that kind of shit in here.”
“The fuck are you talking about? You think I meant on you?” I rolled my eyes. “Fuck off with that homophobic shit. I listen to your dumb asses talking about pussy this, pussy that all day. We’re suddenly PC now?” It got to me sometimes. The guys would banter sexually all day, but the second someone who wasn’t straight did it, it was suddenly a problem. It was tiresome. Weirdly, it’d been less an issue in college than it was in pro, I’d noticed.
Nance took a step forward, his chest puffing up, so I took a step forward too.
“Cut it out.” Ramsey came out of nowhere, cutting between Nance and me like we were about to throw fists.
Nance lifted his hands with a chuckle. “I’m not doing shit. Baby G’s acting up. Maybe he needs a nap.”
God, I’d never hated a nickname more in my life. I took another step forward and cocked my head. “Come closer and tell me that.”
“You’d probably like that, wouldn’t you? Having me all up in your face?”
“That’s enough.” Ramsey glanced pointedly at my clenched fists. “Nance, shut the fuck up and stop with the bullshit. Both of you go cool off.”
I glared as Nance looked between us, then huffed out a chuckle and walked off. I followed a second later, brushing past Ramsey and his stern expression. I wasn’t heated. I just wasn’t going to back down. Okay, maybe I was a little heated.
In the locker room, I waited until Nance vanished into the showers, then stalked toward Ramsey as he undressed.
“Don’t do that swoop-in-and-play-savior crap.” I peeled off my shirt and tossed it on the bench. “I can handle myself.”
Annoyingly, Ramsey merely lifted a brow. “How about you check that ego?”
I tugged my pants off, catching myself on a locker when they got hung up on one ankle. “I managed college by myself. I can handle Nance. I don’t need anyone watching out for me or whatever the fuck Houston told you to do.”
Ramsey barked out a laugh, and goddamn, I wished his amusement didn’t get me as hot as it frustrated me. “Right now you seem like you’re more in need of a babysitter. You think I was doing that just for you?”
I frowned. Well, wasn’t he?
Ramsey snorted. “Tension on the team is bad news, dumbass, you know that. And I’m the captain. Of course I’m gonna chime in. It’d be fucking weird if I didn’t.” He balled up his shorts and sent them sailing toward my stomach. “Like I said, get the fuck over yourself, McRae.” Spinning on a heel, he headed toward the showers.
McRae. He never called me by my last name. I wasn’t sure I liked it.
Tossing his shorts on the bench, I trailed after him.
In the shower, I stood under the spray with my eyes closed, letting it pelt my body as I sucked in a few long, deep breaths. And even though I made sure to grab a spot far enough away that I wouldn’t be tempted to check out Ramsey’s arrogant ass, I still did a couple of times.
The locker room was emptying out as I moseyed toward Ramsey’s locker, whipping the towel from my waist and scrubbing briskly at my hair as I went.
He gave my approach a sidelong, wary glance. “You cool your jets?”
“Yep.” I checked a smirk when his gaze doubled back and dipped lower. I’d had plenty of locker-room experience, so there was no chance I was gonna get inconveniently hard, even if Ramsey’s gaze moved over me with an edge of hunger that darkened the shade of his eyes.
“Good.” He tightened the knot of the towel around his waist. “We need to go into this game strong. Tennessee wants the win just as much as we do.”
“Yeah, I got it. Relax. I’m lying low tonight, going over the plays, watching film.” I remained where I was, unmoving, and he looked over at me again, arching a brow.