Into Your Arms (Squad Stories #1)(3)

"Leaving already?" a voice says and even though I just met him, I know his voice already, and my face is hot to the touch.

I pivot around slowly. Mostly so I don't tip over and make a fool of myself.

"Yes, now go away. I don't want to guess your name and I don't want to tell you mine and I just want you to go away." I point my finger at him, and he just sort of smirks, which makes me madder. I've had a shitty few months and he's not helping. Sometimes I have an even shorter fuse when I drink, and this guy is pushing my buttons for some reason.

"You looked great out there. You a dancer?" he says, completely ignoring what I just said. Tobi appears to want to see how this goes down more than she wants to leave. Traitor.

"Cheerleader," I say, as if it's any of his business. Of course, when I say I'm a cheerleader, I watch his reaction. Guys are almost always thrilled when they find out you're a cheerleader. Like you said you're a porn star or something. Yeah, those two things are exactly the same. Fucking perverts. I'm no one's spank bank material.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I am. And stop ogling me like I'm a sexual object. Cheerleaders are athletes, not porn fetishes. I've busted my ass my entire life to be able to do what I do. I bet you wouldn't even last one practice." I have no idea where that came from. I'm blaming the alcohol.

"Yeah?" he says, raising one dark eyebrow. "Is that a dare?"

"Sure, why the hell not?" I'm probably not going to remember this tomorrow, or see him again, so what does it matter?

"Okay, then. Challenge accepted." He smiles and then I think tips an imaginary hat. Before I can figure out what the crap that means, he's gone.

"Fucking weird," I say.

"Amen," Tobi says, taking my arm and helping me get out to her car.





2


Freya

I'd almost forgotten (yeah, right) about Mystery Man until the following Monday night when he just waltzes into the gym like he owns the place. My jaw pretty much hits the floor.

Tryouts happened at the end of last year, but they had a second round for anyone who missed the first. I'd gotten on the squad with no problem, since the talent level is several notches below what I'm used to. On my old squad (hate calling it that) at Texas University, the whole team had a standing back tuck, but here it's less than a third. It's been a lot to adjust to.

I came here for a reason. I just keep repeating that to myself. I came here for a reason.

"Wow, I can't believe he showed up," Tobi says as we stretch out on the mats. He's wearing a tight black shirt and loose black pants that swish when he walks. His arms are on full display, and I definitely didn't see all those tattoos on Saturday night since his arms had been covered. I have a serious weakness when it comes to tattoos. Yum.

He strides right up to Coach and shakes her hand as if they're old friends. Tobi and I both lean closer to hear what they're saying. His back is to us, so I can't hear what he says, but he makes Coach laugh. She pats him on his ample shoulder and says, "Let's see what you've got."

And then he executes (of course) a beautiful standing tumbling pass, ending with a full twist, landing with his feet perfectly together. What the actual fuck? He stands up and looks right at me, grinning like he's won the lottery.



       
         
       
        

My mouth gapes open, and Coach claps her hands. Jesus Christ, it's like real live Bring it On.

"Now, you've never cheered before, correct?" Coach asks him as she adjusts her glasses. I look around the room and everyone else is paying attention. The Mystery Man shakes his head.

Coach writes something down on her clipboard and tries to hide a smile. She's excited, I can tell. My old squad had one head coach and five assistants. Here there's only one assistant who's a grad student and former squad member. Coach Simmons's claim to fame is coaching a few high school squads and working two years at another tiny college in the state. She's nice but just doesn't have the skills that someone with more experience in different places would. That's mean, but it's honest. I'm already plotting to see if I can help with choreography, since it's one of my strong suits.

Mystery Man towers over her and even though she's got at least fifteen years on him, somehow he's the one who looks older.

"Well, it's a lot more than just tumbling, but you've at least got that. How about you hang out with us this practice and we'll see how fast you learn?" What the hell is this shit? She'd never do that for anyone else. Granted, with that one pass he's cemented himself as the best male tumbler on the team. I can do the same pass, but my legs aren't quite as straight and my feet aren't as tight as his. Although, I will never, ever admit that to him. I'd rather eat glass.