The Penalty Box - Teagan Kade Page 0,4

on the edge. “Well, you going to get dressed or you plan on running in your birthday suit? I know a couple of old ladies around here who’d get a real kick out of that.”

“I didn’t exactly pack for a morning run.”

I nod over to the chest of drawers by the wall. “Bottom drawer. Go.”

He gets up and now it’s my turn to take in the sights, and boy do I like what I see. Those buns alone… Who needs a stress ball when you’ve got those things to squeeze all day?

He crouches and opens the drawer. “You got a thirteen-year-old living here as well?”

I laugh because it’s true. “Let’s just say I was a bit of a tomboy growing up, but they’ll fit.”

He takes out a pair of basketball shorts and a white Space Jam tee, stretching it out. “You’re serious?”

“It’s that or buck naked, buddy. Suits me fine either way. I don’t mind sharing.”

He shakes his head and stands, getting the shorts on okay but the shirt’s a different matter. It’s short by a good inch or two, looks more like a crop top someone’s spray-painted onto his upper body.

I can’t help laughing. “All right then. Shall we?”

He reaches across to open the bedroom door. “After you, MJ.”

It’s still crisp outside, Nolan rubbing his hands together to keep warm. “So, where are we headed?”

I place my hands on my hips and turn towards the hill overlooking Crestfall. “Quick summit run, what do you say?”

He follows my eyes, matching my stance and looking god damn adorable in that shirt. “Mount Doom?” he says, using the hill’s more affectionate moniker for those poor souls who make the climb frequently. “It’s been a while.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” I trill, and set off at a brisk pace, Nolan falling in beside me with surprisingly good form.

There’s a solid fifteen minutes of flat before we hit the base of the mountain and the start of the summit trail. I use the time to probe a bit deeper into the mind of my newfound fixation. “What are your plans after graduation?” I ask. “I bet you’re dying to get out of here, go play in the NHL, maybe jump the border and drown yourself in maple syrup.”

He laughs back. “I bet you’d love that.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed, but seriously, what are you going to do?”

He looks sideways to check the intersection before we cross. “I’ve had a few strong offers, don’t really mind where I end up.”

“As long as it’s not Arizona,” I add, trying to remember what the worst NHL team is.

He gives a stunted laugh. “Not exactly a state known for its icy conditions. What about you? What are you planning besides world domination?”

I notice our running has synchronized, footfalls sounding together on the pavement. “It’s the WNBA for me, hopefully the Olympic team in three years, one or two championship wins, All-Star selection…”

Nolan can’t stop smiling. “You really don’t do things by halves, do you?”

“Never say never, because limits, like gears, are often just an illusion.”

Nolan recognizes the quote. “Now you’re quoting Jordan at me? Come on. Where was your mother, by the way? Didn’t you say you lived with her?”

“Girls weekend in Palm Springs with her old drinking pals. She flies back tomorrow.”

“So you do come from money?”

“You have no idea.”

“Your father, what does he do?”

I try to hide the way the words twist at my expression, the sudden tension flooding into me. “Like you said, world domination. He’s a terrible person.”

Nolan’s eyebrows knot. He licks his lips. “That’s a bit critical, isn’t it?”

“You don’t know him. Trust me.”

“I suppose I don’t exactly have the father of the year either, but there was a certain sense of security growing up, at least when my mother was around.”

“How so?” I ask, curious.

Nolan’s thrown off guard. I doubt he expected such a deep conversation at six in the morning, probably thought he’d be balls deep by now, not sweating up a different kind of storm.

“I don’t know,” he replies, huffing. “I suppose they had a strong relationship, marriage, whatever. There was security in that, for all of us. When she passed…” He trails off, looks distant.

“So commitment is important to you.”

“It is.”

“Explains a lot.”

“Does it?”

I nod in front of us, “That’s the trailhead. You sure you’re up for this?” I can tell by his breathing there’s the slightest hint of struggle already. Shuttle runs on the ice are one thing, but distance running in the open air is quite another.

“Let’s do