Chapter Three

Cam jolted awake at the sound of a rooster in the distance. Shards of new morning light slipped between the slats of the shutters, and he rubbed the kink out of the side of his neck—a painful reminder that he’d fallen asleep sitting up in bed with his laptop. He’d written exactly three words before dozing off: INT. RESTAURANT – NIGHT.

He looked down at his lap. No computer. He looked around the bed then down at the carpet, worried it may have slipped off. No luck there either.

His bedroom door was open. He’d shut it last night.

“Who took my computer?” he shouted, throwing off the covers and getting to his feet. His heart should never beat this fast first thing in the morning. He also shouldn’t have murder on his mind before brushing his teeth.

“Nash!” he yelled, suspecting this was his brother’s way of getting a rise out of him.

Said brother appeared in the doorway before Cam could poke his head out, a big, fat smile on his face. “Yes?”

“Where is my computer?”

“The better question is, where are your shorts?”

“Nash, do not mess with me.”

“Dude, I read what you wrote. It was riveting, if not a little brief, and thus you need to get dressed and work out with me this morning before you even think about putting your hands on the keyboard.”

“Where is it?”

“Safe and sound. Now come on. You’ve got five minutes to meet me outside.”

Nash only pulled this type of stunt when it didn’t really matter (three words did not a screenplay make) and when he needed some bonding time, so Cam huffed out a “fine.” He did want to spend time with his brother, but preferred to do it after coffee. Note to self: lock the bedroom door from now on.

Ten minutes later—because the least Cam could do was make his brother wait—he found Nash on the basketball court their parents had put in when he and his brothers were in middle school. The blue and red rubber surface had cushioned many faceplants during heated games of one-on-one or Horse.

His way-too-cheerful-in-the-morning brother was jumping rope. Cam picked up his own rope and joined in. The sooner they finished their workout, the sooner he could grab some breakfast and get his computer back. With the sun rising over the mountains, though, he couldn’t deny the peaceful sunrise painted a nice view; a good way to start the day.

Team training officially started for Nash at the end of the month, but the guy rarely missed a day to work out. Cam admired his dedication and drive, even when no one was looking.

“You should do this with me three times a week,” Nash said. “I promise I’ll take it easy on you.”

“All right.” Cam could handle getting up with the roosters three times a week. “Why is Gael off the hook?”

“He isn’t on a deadline. Trust me, this is going to help you.”

Worth a shot. At this point, Cam would agree to anything if it helped him get back his writing mojo.

“How’s Stella?” Cam asked.

“We broke up.”

“Sorry, man. You okay?” He and Stella had been dating since the end of the football season.

“Yeah. It was fun while it lasted.” Most of Nash’s relationships only lasted the duration of the off-season, so Cam really wasn’t surprised.

They stopped jumping rope and Nash picked up the medicine ball for rotational throws. Cam had been put through these paces before—a recurring summer activity for the past several years. He twisted and threw to Nash. Caught the ball when it was thrown back and twisted the other way and threw again. On the tenth toss from Nash, a flash of auburn hair caught the corner of Cam’s eye and he dropped the medicine ball on his foot.

“Ow.” He hobbled in a circle, trying to walk off the pain as Reese came closer.

“Nitro, is that you?” Nash asked.

“It is. Hi, Nash!” As kids, they’d nicknamed Reese “Nitro” because she’d been so bubbly and always in motion.

“Get over here.” He waved her closer then lifted her off the ground for a spinning hug. “It’s great to see you,” he added as he put her down.

“You too. How’s the arm?” She squeezed the biceps on Nash’s throwing arm.

“Fantastic. We’ll toss a few while you’re here.”

“I’d love that.” She looked up at him with stars in her eyes like all his female fans did, and this morning it annoyed Cam. Beee-cause Nash’s ego was big enough. Not because Cam wanted Reese to look at him like that.

“You’re staying the rest of the month?”

She nodded, her bright gaze moving back and forth between him and his brother. He should probably say hello or good morning. She beat him to the punch. “Morning, Grumpy Pants.”

“Morning, Happy Face.”

She smiled. Directly at him. His mood lifted exponentially. “Looks like I got here just in time to cheer you up.”

Nash laughed. “You always have a way of getting his ass in gear.”

“Like the time I put those two giant toads in his bed?” Her smile widened.

Cam laced his hands behind his back and stretched his shoulders and arms. “Because one slimy, giant toad wasn’t enough.”

“Hey, they were in love. I couldn’t separate them.” She cut a glance to somewhere behind him. “Maybe they’re still around somewhere,” she teased.

Nash slung his arm over Reese’s shoulders. “Let’s conspire while you’re here.”

Cam picked up Nash’s hand and pushed his brother’s arm off of Reese. “This is not the time to plot against me.”

Guilt rippled across Reese’s face for a split second before it disappeared. Did the two of them have something up their sleeves already?

“Fine,” Nash said. “You look like you’re ready for a workout, Nitro. Want to join us?”

“Sure!” She had on black leggings, a powder blue T-shirt that slid off one shoulder, and white tennis shoes. No matter the time of day, she always had a warm glow about her. She claimed her apricot face wash deserved the credit, but he knew better. It came from the inside.

“Cool. Grab a jump rope to warm up and then we’ll do some squats.”

She pulled a thin band off her wrist and gathered her long hair into a ponytail before picking up a rope. He’d imagined kissing his way up her long, delicate neck to the sensitive skin behind her ear more than once. He’d whisper something dirty to make her blush then continue to her full mouth, where he’d gently sink his teeth into her plump lower lip and—

“Bro.” Nash snapped his fingers in front of Cam’s nose. “Let’s go.”

Jesus, he’d completely lost track of where he was for a minute. Luckily, Reese hadn’t noticed as she jumped rope, unaware of his little fantasy.

Nash led him in burpees, barely out of breath with each count out loud. Cam didn’t even try to keep up. For once, he didn’t care if his brother showed off in front of a pretty girl. They both knew where Reese’s true loyalty lay.

The three of them moved to squats and jump squats next. Reese held her own with them, but Nash kept the count lower than he would have had it been just the two of them.

They sat down to catch their breath after that, Reese in between them. “I’m going to be sore tomorrow,” she said.

He could help her out with that. Offer a full body massage. Bubble bath…

“You’re a runner, right?” Nash asked.

“Jogger, more like, considering I’m not very fast. I also do yoga. And hikes. Cam and I started playing pickleball a couple of months ago.” Her eyes strayed to his and for a moment it was just the two of them. They had a friendly pickleball competition going and were currently tied at nine games each. Their next match decided the winner, who had to buy the loser…wait for it…a jar of pickles. “I have never laughed as hard as I did the first time we played.”

“She kept volleying in the non-volley zone,” he said to Nash, “and cracking herself up.”

“Six feet. Seven feet. What’s twelve inches?”

“Sweetheart, if you were anyone else, I’d show you,” Nash said.

Cam shook his head while Reese slapped her palms over her blushing cheeks. “Oh my God.”

“So, I’ve heard,” Nash said cheekily before lying back in the sit-up position.

“Ignore him,” Cam said. If Nash were anyone else, Cam would have decked him. His brother flirted with everyone, and he had no idea how his teasing Reese suddenly bothered him. But only for a moment, because her soft eyes said all he needed to know: she was a little embarrassed and not the least bit intrigued by Nash. She broke eye contact and followed Nash’s lead, hands behind her head.

They quieted through the stomach exercise and when finished Nash said, “How do you feel about push-ups?”

“That’s like asking someone how they feel about the dentist.” She pulled out her hair band and gathered the long strands into a bun on top of her head.

Nash laughed. “Do me a favor then.” He got into push-up position. “Come have a seat on my back.”

“Really?” She got to her feet, wiping her bottom with her hands. She stood at five-five and maybe weighed a buck thirty. Gone was any leftover embarrassment.

Cam immediately got into position himself. This might be the only time he beat his brother. “His peacock feathers are coming out,” Cam said.

Reese gave him a small nod in understanding.

She sat on Nash’s back, both legs dangling off one side. “I’m not too heavy, am I?”

“Not even a little. You ready, bro?”

“Ready.”

While Nash had the good fortune to be in close contact with Reese, Cam had the better position, given every time he glanced up she blessed him with an amused look and two thumbs-up. You got this, she silently implied.

“How you doing over there?” Cam asked.

“I’m doing. You?”

“Not even breaking a sweat.”

“Right.” Nash didn’t believe him. “He seem tired to you, Reese?”

“Not yet,” she said joyfully.

Her answer gave him the motivation to keep going. He was tired but damn, if he lost with this advantage he’d never hear the end of it.

Nash’s speed finally slowed. About time, given Cam had decelerated ten push-ups ago.

“Nitro, how we doing?”

“I’d say we’re neck and neck.”

“Cam, how many you got left?” Nash said.

“How many do you?” He hoped it was less than five because in that many seconds, Cam felt certain he’d no longer have use of his arms.

Just then, Reese wiggled, and something about it had Nash dropping to the ground. She winked at Cam a split second before he collapsed, his body exhausted.

She rolled off Nash and sat with her legs crossed in her lap.

“That tickled,” Nash said, getting into a sitting position.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to tickle under your arm like that.” Said in a clear tone to indicate the contrary.

Cam still hadn’t moved. He might even just take a little nap. But before he did, a thank-you was in order. “Thanks for that,” he said to her.

“Don’t mention it.”

“Oh, there will be mention,” Nash said. Then, seeing Cam’s limp body and cheek planted into the rubber of the basketball court added, “Nice job, though.”

“Uh-huh,” Cam murmured.

Nash got to his feet with ease, the jerk. “You want me to carry you into the house?”

“Funny. I can walk.” He didn’t move a muscle.

“You sure?”

“Go run or something, would you please?”

“That’s the plan. Reese, you in for a few miles?” Nash gave her his hand to help her stand.

She accepted the assistance before saying, “Thanks, but maybe next time.”

“Okay, then. Catch you guys later.” Nash took off at a speed unbefitting to mere humans like himself.

Cam closed his eyes for a one-minute power nap. When he opened them he found Reese still there.

“You okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine.”

She plopped down beside him and took a meditation pose with her legs bent and crossed, hands on her knees, back straight. “You know what you need, right?”

What he needed right now was for her to walk away and let him crawl back into the house. Leave it to Nash to do burpees and pushups on their very first workout day.

“Must we?”

“It will help. Come on, sit up.” At least she didn’t say, “Can you sit up?”

Fine. He’d sit up. It wasn’t the first time she’d urged yoga on him. Facing her, he matched her pose.

“Inhale and lift your arms up over your head.” She lifted her arms as she spoke and looked up at her hands. “Press your palms together.”

He followed her instructions even though his arms argued.

“Now gently let go and come into eagle arms, crossing your left arm over your right, and pulling your elbows down toward your stomach.”

He copied her pose, their arms blocking their faces. They stayed that way for several seconds. A shame, given looking into her eyes was his main motivation here.

“Now from here, keep your arms in place and lean up and over to your left.”

Mirroring her, his left was her right, and he appreciated her giving instructions that took zero thinking on his part.

“Hold it,” she said. “Now come back to center and go up and over to the other side. Inhale, and open up your arms. Press your palms together again as you look up.”

He watched her, the ease with which she moved, the way her shirt stretched across her chest, then he followed her lead. She’d taught yoga in the park once, for about two months.

“Now gently let go and we’ll switch to the other side with your right arm over your left. Take a deep breath and bend up and over. Feel the stretch create space through your side.”

They repeated the stretch on the other side, and damn if his arms and shoulders didn’t feel better.

“Slowly release your arms and let’s get on all fours.” Her soft, gentle voice had him willingly cooperating.

She moved to her hands and knees. “Knees underneath your hips,” she said, waiting for him to get into position. “From here slide your arms out in front of you, head down…”

They did a few more stretches, his arms and upper body almost tension-free.

“Now, bring yourself back to a sitting position, press your palms together and bring both hands close to your heart and close your eyes.”

Hands in prayer position, he took the opportunity to ask for a little help on the writing front this month. He was almost sure he had it in him; he simply needed a little extra wind beneath his sails.

“Better?” she asked.

He met her gaze. “Much. Thanks for the assist.”

“Stick with me, Stu.”

His mouth twitched. They’d made that up to say to each other years ago. A nice way of saying, Don’t be stupid, I’ve got you.

They both made a move to stand. And bumped heads.

“Ow.” Reese got to her feet while rubbing her forehead. Cam jumped to his, putting a hand on her elbow to make sure she had her balance and a clear head. The hit had hurt. She may be strong, but his head was definitely harder.

“Shit. I’m sorry,” he said. “You okay?”

“I’m starting to believe you are a danger to me on this trip.” She dropped her arm, exposing a small, red blemish near her hairline. He hated seeing it. “But yes, I’m okay. It’s not my first headbutt.”

“It’s not?”

“I did play pee wee football,” she reminded him, and he tried to picture that. “What?” She tilted her head, studying him.

“I’m just imagining you in all that football gear running around the field thinking you could do anything boys could do, only better.”

She beamed. “Of course I could. Being the coach’s daughter gave me some extra confidence, too.”

Cam gently traced his finger over the pink spot on her forehead. Her lashes fluttered, and despite their workout she smelled good. “You sure you’re okay?”

She nodded.

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear then dropped his arm. “I’ll catch you later then.”

“How about lunch at James’s?” Was it his imagination or did she sound a little breathless?

“It’s a date.” He turned and walked away before those words felt weird. They’d been on a thousand dates. He seriously had to get over this attraction to her before he did something he couldn’t take back. Writing ought to do the trick. But mustering up any enthusiasm to write another action film was proving difficult. Maybe Gael was right and he should drink his way through the screenplay. Or maybe Nash was right and he should have sex.

Just not with Reese.