Hot Pickle - J.J. Knight Page 0,65
every year.”
We head out to the car. I could probably confide in Anthony about Cam, but as we head toward the arena, I don’t. I know what’s happening with Camryn is important and real. But I’m not ready to share it or defend it against my brothers’ endless ribbing and nonstop questions.
Anthony stays with me as I check in and grab my pin. He openly gawks at the size of the people around us.
“I thought you were big. But you’re looking small compared to some of these guys.”
“We’re getting to the big-time,” I say.
“You think you have a chance?” A female bodybuilder in a mermaid green bikini strides by and Anthony almost stumbles over his own feet.
“I’m going to get stomped.”
He drags his gaze back to me. “Really?”
“I’m going to have fun with it. That’s all it ever was.”
Despite this being a higher-level match, the setup is much the same as all the rest. Bodybuilders in their warm-up suits line the walls of a huge empty room. The women must be going first here, because they are the ones already showing skin.
Anthony is entranced. “They’re unbelievable. How do they look like that?”
“Dedication. Nutrition. Workouts. It’s simple. But you need the willpower to do it.”
“And you do?”
“So far.”
A line of women file by, only a few feet from us. A few glance at us and one winks at Anthony. “I’m down with big pickles,” she says as she passes.
I reach over and bump his chin where his jaw has dropped. “Control those salivary glands, brother.”
“You think I can meet one?”
“You going to ask them about their food choices?” I punch his arm.
“Maybe.”
“I take it you’re not dating anybody,” I say.
“I did for a while. But she moved on.”
“You never mentioned her.”
“Wasn’t too busted up about it. That should tell you everything.” He elbows me. “What about you?”
I choose my words carefully. “The way Dad keeps me hopping with this anniversary thing, I barely have time to bang one off in the shower.”
No lies there.
“But you were going to bring someone to dinner the first night.”
Shit. Right. “I just started seeing someone. I can’t let you all scare her off.”
“Now that’s totally fair. Dad is on a rampage anyway. For someone who has turned over the franchise, he sure is all over this party.”
“It’s his last big shindig.”
“It’s a lot.”
Franklin and the entourage arrive, loud and jocular. There are more of them, four now. Security stops them at the door.
He’s forgotten he’s only allowed two guests backstage, spots generally reserved for your trainer and maybe a coach.
He chooses two of them, and the others take off.
Franklin grabs his pin, then they all head toward us and plop down on the floor.
“Now, we wait,” Franklin says.
I unzip my bag and pull out one of the chocolate bars. I toss it to him. “For luck.”
He holds the chocolate in his hands, and his expression sets off my alarm bells. “How did you know I like these?”
My heart skips a beat for a second, thinking I’m busted. But I smooth it over. “Dude, I know when you take a shit. We’ve been training together too long for me not to know all your brands.”
He’s not convinced. “Camryn’s the only one who gives me these.”
I decide I should confess at least that much. “That must be why she gave one to me. She told me you liked them. I offered to get this round.”
His eyes pierce mine. “When was that?”
“When I got my tan last night.” I hold out my arms. “I’m damn dark, right?”
“Yeah.” He shoves the chocolate in his bag. “You want to get a pump on?” He turns to the other two guys. “You have to keep your muscles pumped so they’re not flat for the stage.”
“I’m gonna wait,” I say. I decide not to remind him not to burn the glycogen stores too early. He’s in teacher mode and enjoying his spotlight. I’m happy to let him have it.
Franklin and the other two guys take off for another corner to do some light reps and push-ups. I keep my eye on the door, hoping Camryn will show while Franklin’s occupied on the other side of the room.
Otherwise, talking to her seems risky. The way Franklin already suspects something’s going on, he’ll be looking for any sign he’s being lied to.
Which, of course, he is. We’ll have to clear this up tomorrow after the competition is over. It can’t keep going. It’s not right.
The lightweight classes start passing by.
“Those guys aren’t built like