Into Your Arms (Squad Stories #1)(4)

"Sounds good," he says and jogs right over to me, plops down on the mat, and starts stretching.

This is not happening. I can't put my finger on why he pushes my buttons so much. He isn't that much of an asshole. Sure, he's cocky and confident, but that's tolerable. It's just . . . the way he is drives me crazy.

Hot and bothered and crazy.

Hopefully he'll give up once the season gets started and then he'll go away, and I can go back to not fantasizing about what that beard would feel like scraping against my skin.

"I thought you were a figment of my drunk imagination," I say, as he drops into a middle split and proves that not only is he a talented tumbler, he's flexible too. I try not to stare and imagine all the ways he could twist himself up. So not relevant right now.

"No, Freya, I'm completely real." I start when he says my name. How the crap does he know my name?

I shoot Tobi a look, but she's just watching the two of us like you watch animals circling each other on a nature special, waiting to see which one will draw blood first.

"Are you stalking me now? Is that how you know my name?" He rolls his eyes and tips his neck from side to side to crack it. 

"No, it was easy. I have my sources." Ugh, this guy is really annoying me. It's a shame he's so good looking. I do whatever I can to keep my eyes off his tattoos. They're bold and colorful, but I don't look closely enough to figure out what they are. I've never dated a guy with tattoos, but the appeal has always been there.

"Whatever. Do I get to know your name now?" I can just ask Coach, but I'm not going to give him the satisfaction.

"Nope, you've gotta guess." I'm about to tell him where he can stick his guesses when Coach starts practice. She beams at us all and rocks from foot to foot.

"Okay, everyone, we have a new face. This is Rhett, and he's going to be observing for the next week. I know we already had tryouts, but we're sorely in need of strong bases and tumblers, so I'm making an exception. If you don't like it, you can go and run laps. Got it?" I'm the only one who seems to consider running laps. And I seriously hate running.

"Okay, let's begin with conditioning." She gives us all an evil smile, and we groan.

Rhett

Well, she knows my name, so that little game is over. I'll have to come up with another way to play with her now.

I try not to stare as she stretches in just a tank top and a pair of athletic shorts. I don't need much imagination to see that she has a rocking body. Curvy and toned at the same time.

And her name. Freya. After she'd the bar left with her friends, Jem figured out who they were. Jem's one of those people who can get information out of anyone, and you wouldn't even realize he'd gotten it until after you'd told him. I always tell him he should be a lawyer or something, but he scoffs. Jem has one ambition and that's to have a good time.

Of course, then I looked her up on Facebook, but I couldn't get much because we weren't friends. So then I searched for the meaning of her name and laughed so loudly when I found it that I'm pretty sure my neighbors heard me.

Freya. Fucking sexy name, and it suits her perfectly. It means "lady" and is the name of a Norse goddess of love, beauty, war, and death. So perfect. She looks just like a Norse goddess.

I wasn't too worried about the cheer practice. I mean, I knew what cheerleaders did. I watched a few videos on YouTube to prepare. Yeah, I could totally do that, sure. Granted, if I hadn't been doing jiujitsu and break dancing for most of my life, I would have been completely screwed. Poor Freya. She had no idea when she dared me, which made this all the more sweet.

She'd been miffed to say the least when I actually showed up. Her face when I busted out that tumbling pass was priceless. I wished I could frame it and put it on my wall.

I'd emailed the Coach on Sunday and had asked (humbly) if I could come and try out, even though I'd missed the deadline. I also (not so humbly) listed my qualifications that would hopefully gloss over the fact that I had never cheered before. Some guys in high school had called it "gay", but if lifting up half-clothed girls in very particular places is gay, then sign me up.

She'd emailed me back right away, and I could smell the desperation. Hmm. They must be short of guys, which wasn't surprising. Still, this didn't mean that I was going to join the team. I was just going to prove Freya wrong and then that would be it. Hopefully I could get out after I'd seen her naked. Man, did I want to see her naked.

The first practice is . . . eye opening to say the least. Since it's just the beginning of the season, we're still working on conditioning, but the rest of the team has already started cheering at the football games.

I have a lot to learn. From learning how to base, to catching, to choreography and motions, to moving from one formation to the next without bashing into someone. My brain overloads real fast with all the new vocabulary. What the hell is a cupie? Everyone's super nice and patient with me, and I catch on pretty fast. With some stuff, at least. They all make it look effortless, and it definitely is anything but. I'm starting at square one, and I feel like they're all speaking a language that I only have a rudimentary knowledge of. Lifting people in the air scares me, honestly. I don't want to drop anyone.