The Crazy Hottie

Amanda's POV

“Logan!” Kirk shouted, his cheeks red in embarrassment on his friend's behalf.

“What?” Logan snorted. “The ladies all want me. She can't be anything special.”

“I'm sorry, Miss Bruce.” Kirk apologized profusely, shaking his head in shame.

I couldn't say a word. I was too… I didn't know how I felt. I knew that Logan didn't mean that offer. He had been taunting me again. I was not his type. The girls he preferred were years younger than I was. He wouldn't sleep with me even if I was crazy enough to want him.

“Wow,” I breathed, finally working my tongue.

Asshole. It was on the tip of my tongue to call him all sorts of names but I forced the anger down, knowing that boundary was one I was never going to recover from if I crossed it.

“I don't want a night out with you. All I want is for you to get better, Logan.” I replied, my tone cool while I boiled inside.

Never have I had to endure a negotiation as frustrating as this.

“Logan?” He arched his eyebrow, squinting at me.

“Didn't you say I was too old to be polite to you?” I reminded him.

Kirk's eyes widened and he groaned, shaking his head at Logan. I raised a finger to stop him from apologizing once again. I was sick of it anyways.

Logan smiled. “Fine, Miss Bruce.” He said, saying my name in a patronizing manner.

“Shall we get started on your training?”

“As much as I want to play in the next season, I don't mind wasting my time for the three months if it means that I will get back what you've ripped Kirk off.”

“She didn't rip me. I offered her.” Kirk said in my defense.

“Where is his workout room?” I asked, moving forward as if I knew where it was.

“Let me show you, Miss Bruce.” Kirk said, stepping forward. “Aren't you coming, Logan?”

Logan grunted but got to his feet. I inhaled, uncomfortable with how close he was. He was the object of fantasies of every female sport lover but I never thought of him that way, especially when he was always seen with ladies in their early twenties, those with more designer dresses than tact.

I hated him for his suggestion as my brain tortured me with bizarre images. I wondered how it would be to be in his arms and kiss him. I suddenly wished to know if he was a good kisser as most of his flings claimed online or if they had been exaggerating. I snorted at the thought, reminding myself of my job and his annoying attitude.

I couldn't afford to be distracted. I didn't have money to pay him back. I had to make sure that he was fit enough to play in the next three months or I was damned.

It was none of my business if he could kiss or not. I couldn't tell anyone the truth anyway.

Kirk opened a room and I breathed as I stepped inside and saw the machines in there. I could die here.

“Wow,” I breathed, running in excitement to the machines and touching them one after the other. “This collection is awesome.” I said, turning to the guys.

Kirk smiled at me but Logan looked bored.

“I'm glad you like it, Miss Bruce.” Kirk replied.

“Why won't she?” Logan quipped.

We both ignored him.

“This is my schedule and rehabilitation plan for Logan.” I extended to Kirk the draft I had spent the whole night planning.

He took it, skimmed his gaze through it and nodded. “Good. I expected this much.”

I smiled, pleased with his appreciation. Logan took the plan from him without a word and read, a frown forming on his face. My heart skipped a beat, anxious about dealing with another round of criticism from him.

“Do you have a problem with it?” Kirk asked.

“I don't,” Logan shook his head and handed the plan back to Kirk.

I didn't know that I held my breath until I felt it rush out of my throat.

“I have some rules.” I said before I lost my courage.

Kirk arched his eyebrows at me but Logan looked strangely interested. I hadn't planned to say that but with the way Logan behaved, I felt they would help me.

Getting no opposition from them, I rushed on while fixing Logan a stare. “I need you to agree to give this program the best you can.” I didn't need him slacking intentionally because he wanted me to pay back what I collected from him.

I was going to prove to him that I had in experience what I lacked in age.

“Sure,” Logan nodded. “Anything else?”

“Don't cross lines. Let's keep it strictly professional. No unnecessary jokes or flirty remarks.”

“Fine. I wouldn't find it fun flirting with you anyways.”

“Deal.” I nodded, not bothering with a handshake.

“I will be in the living room. You both know where to find me if you need me.” Kirk said and walked out.

I doubted that I would need him anyways, except Logan did.

“What do you need me to do?” He asked, amusement still glinting in his eyes as if he expected me to say nonsense.

He still didn't believe I knew what I was doing.

“Let's do some stretches now, shall we?” I replied.

“Stretches?” He snorted, looking amused. “I knew you were a quack.”

“I thought we agreed to keep it strictly professional.” I reminded him.

“I had no idea that meant not sharing one's opinions.”

“Strictly,” I insisted.

He snorted. “Fine, coach.” He slurred the word, calling me a coach in a way that made me wish I wasn't one.

“Now, some stretches.” I said.

I had heard of his damages but I had to see how far and deep they were, and how nicely or not-so-nicely he was healing.

He rolled his eyes and obliged me, his lips running thin as he stretched his body. I watched him, keeping my expression black as I studied his expression.

He tried to keep it cool but I could see the strain.

“Stop,”

A relieved sigh gushed out of his throat and I knew I had made the right call.

“What do you think?”

“You are in far worse shape than you think.”

And I was in far worse trouble than I realized. There wasn't a way I was going to get him back on the ice in three months.

“Kirk didn't tell you the extent of my injuries.”

“He said you were recuperating well for an athlete.”

He suddenly burst out laughing. “Now, I get why he paid you twice as much. For a moment, I thought he had lost his senses.”

I winced, hating being made fun of. “I don't see how this is funny. You have a long way to go.”

“And you have a huge debt to pay.” He smiled, his eyes twinkling.

Jeez. Thanks for the reminder.

“I won't if you get well.”

He narrowed his eyes, studying me cautiously. “You are confident? Even knowing how worse my once-extraordinary bones are?”

I wasn't confident. Not at all. Not anymore.

I swallowed and forced the fear down. “I am.” I lied.

He nodded. “Fair enough. You need some nerves to do the impossible too.”

“And I need you to stop thinking that your healing is impossible.”

He shook his head. “I don't think that it's impossible, I think that you are impossible.”

Jeez. Thanks for the vote of confidence.

“Well, you are stuck with me for the next three months so you might as well ditch that lack of faith in your coach. Because, like it or not, I'm your coach.”

A strange look passed in his eyes but he nodded. “Yes, coach.” He replied, sounding more polite than I had ever thought possible.

“Now, run some laps on the treadmill.” I ordered, pointing at the machine.

“Yes, coach.” He nodded.

He should have opposed me as he usually did. What happened next was what I would forever have nightmares of.

“Oh my!” I screeched, staring wide at the disaster before me.