the country on staff. I’m sure they can pick out anything we might be doing wrong.”
His brows lift as he looks to the side. “Sure, okay. Keep telling yourself that.” He pats his hands on his legs and stands. “I’ll be in the office if you need me.”
He takes off, and Jason and I both stare at each other in disbelief.
Okay, conceited moment coming up in three, two, one . . .
If there’s one thing I’ve gotten used to since I’ve come to Brentwood, it is the immense amount of ass-kissing we’re privileged to, not only by the student population but the administration and faculty too. No one ever gives us shit. Rather, they roll out the red carpet wherever we walk. So to have someone shoot some salt our way, it’s kind of . . . shocking.
Still confused, Jason asks, “Did he just give us attitude?”
I glance behind us and then back at Jason. “I think he did.”
“Huh.” He smiles. “I fucking liked it.”
“Yeah, it was . . . different. But I’ll tell you what I didn’t like—feeling like an ass.”
“Then don’t act like one.”
“You think I was acting like an ass?”
“Uh, yeah.” He laughs. “You could have at least heard the girl out. Maybe she has some secret sauce you need to drink.”
“You think she would have more knowledge than Disik at this point?”
He shrugs and squats under his bar, loading it onto his shoulders. “Couldn’t hurt to find out.”
Chapter Five
MILLY
“Come on, Milly, it’s been two days, you can stop giving me the cold shoulder.”
My feet eat up the paved stone of the beautiful, historic campus. Coffee in hand, and a determined stride, I try to distance myself from Jerry.
I am still . . . humiliated.
Why did he push me on Carson?
I’m a prideful woman and won’t ever turn down a challenge, but there was no way I could have spotted Carson Stone. He’s at least ten inches taller than I am, his squatting weight was obscene, but if he had faltered, we would have crashed down together. And that’s not only dangerous, but it would have bruised my pride as well.
And then when Jerry opened his mouth about me possibly lending some advice to Carson on his swing, I couldn’t have been more embarrassed. I don’t advertise my coaching, or the fact that my brother is Cory Potter, because I want to be able to prove myself on my own. I don’t need to be begging for opportunities or using my brother’s name to back me.
I stick with my eight-year-olds, because they think the world of me. And who knows. Maybe I’m training up a future generation of professional athletes. There’s satisfaction in that.
“Milly, come on.” Jerry pulls on my shoulder. “At least talk to me.”
I have some time before class—thanks to my power walking—so I stop my pursuit to the classroom and step aside so we’re not in the middle of the walkway. “Why did you do it? Why did you try to force Carson on me?”
Stunned that I’m actually talking to him—I’m good at the cold shoulder, it’s not the first time he’s gotten it—he stutters a second. “I . . . uh . . . I thought, you know, you’d want to talk to him. You’ve always wished we were in the weight room with the baseball team and there was your chance.”
“The last thing I want to do is bother the baseball team while they’re trying to work out. That was humiliating, Jerry. And what would have happened if he actually needed spotting? There is no way I could have assisted him.”
“He’s Carson Stone. He doesn’t need assisting when it comes to weights.”
“That’s beside the point. You put me in a stupid situation and in the end, I was burned. You saw the look on his face when you said I could help him. If I wasn’t standing directly in front of him, he would have laughed out loud.”
“That’s not true,” Jerry counters, but I don’t think he truly believes himself.
“So not only does he refer to me as the panini line girl, but he also thinks I’m some kind of idiot who thinks they know more than his coaches.”
“You do know more than them.”
I tilt my head to the side in exhaustion. “I don’t, Jerry. They’re the head coaches at Brentwood University for a reason. They’re the best.” Sighing, I glance toward Lake Michigan, easy as our campus is right next to it. “It doesn’t matter anyway, it’s not like our paths