Burnout (The Holland Brothers Book 1)

“I’m not getting up there.”

All the optimism I clung to this weekend dissipates as Knox aims a stubborn scowl at me.

“You said anything,” I remind him.

With a sigh, he walks closer to the beam. He pauses for a second like he’s not sure how to get on. Oops. I forgot for some people it’s not as easy as breathing. Before I can hop down and show him how, Knox hoists himself up with a lot of impressive upper body strength.

I fight a grin as he stands tall, wobbling a bit as he finds his balance. I can tell by the look on his face that laughing right now would be ill-advised.

After warming up and a little trampoline work into the pit, I have my fingers crossed that this works. And if it doesn’t, well, at least I got a few minutes up on beam. What Coach Weaver doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

“Okay.” I find a smidge of composure. “I want you to do a back tuck dismount into the pit.”

One dark brow arches.

“It’s perfectly safe. So easy a five-year-old could do it,” I mock.

“Oooh. Can I show him?” Hope asks with a pleading expression from her spot on a neighboring beam.

Before I’ve nodded, she’s already getting into position. She adds a cartwheel before the back tuck, landing it on a mat instead of in the pit.

Knox’s jaw works back and forth.

“Want to see it again?” I ask.

“No,” he says gruffly. When Hope gets back up, he silently, still grimacing at me, offers her his fist.

She taps her knuckles against his with glee and her face goes pink.

“One time and we’ll get back down on the floor,” I say to him.

“Then, what’s the point? Are you messing with me?”

“You said anything, and I want to see if you meant it.”

With a huff, he finally moves to the end of the beam. He hesitates.

“Don’t overthink it. Just like we did before.”

“Yeah, except now I’m balancing on a tightrope.” His cheeks puff out with a breath and then he goes for it.

My relief is immediate. He did it. I walk over to see his face as he surfaces from the pit.

“Is that a smile?” I ask, hands on my hips.

He tries to wipe it from his face, but his lips betray him.

“Fun, right?” I ask.

“I don’t know. I think I blacked out. Are you done hazing me now?”

“Yes.” I hop down from the beam. “And you passed the test.”

Maybe there’s hope for him yet. I need him to trust me. And sure, watching him get on the beam was fun, but the real point was that he’s not going to fight me at every turn.

“Okay. Let’s keep doing back tucks into the pit but focus on your form.”

He’s following me one second and the next I look back and he’s stopped to check his phone.

I walk back toward him. “Setting up a hookup later?”

“No.” He’s scowling at his phone as his fingers fly over the screen.

I wonder if he scowls during sex.

“We’ve only got thirty more minutes,” I remind him. Usually, I’d be game to stay at the gym until they kicked me out, but tonight I’m meeting up with some classmates to study for a psychology quiz.

“Something came up. I gotta go.”

“Now?”

“Yeah.” He shoves his phone in his pocket and jogs off without so much as an apology.

I start to follow him, but he’s quick and I’m too stunned to catch him.

What the fuck?

I’m still fuming the next day. I waited all night for a text that explained his hasty departure. I almost caved and texted him to make sure everything was fine.

As I perch on a chair facing the door, my gaze is glued to it, waiting to see if he’ll show. I don’t get it. One minute he is all in, and the next he’s bailing early with no explanation.

No more. I can’t handle it. I can’t help him if he doesn’t want to take this seriously. I’m done.

Knox walks in three minutes early. He’s staring out into the gym as he walks, but then something pulls him to look at me.

His steps slow as he approaches. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I parrot. I had planned to play this cool and professional. Simply let him know this wasn’t going to work and walk off. But with him standing in front of me, all my frustration resurfaces. “You’re alive.”

“Uhh…yeah.”

“I didn’t think you were going to show.” That’s a lie. I don’t know how, but I knew he’d be back, if only to tell me my workouts are shit and he’s quitting.

“Why wouldn’t I show?”

“I don’t know, maybe because you ducked out early yesterday or you’ve made every workout seem like torture.”

“Something came up.” His brows furrow. “You were standing right next to me. I told you I had to leave early.”

“Let’s just call this training together idea a big giant fiasco and move on.” I’m exhausted. I can’t fail myself and him too. “I’ll text you some exercises you can add into your workout routine.”

It’s what I should have done in the first place. One and done and out of mind. I stand and brush past him out to the parking lot.

Knox jogs after me, catching me as I reach my Bronco. “Wait, Avery. I’m sorry.”

Funny, he couldn’t find that word yesterday. “No, I’m sorry. This was never going to work. You’re⁠—”

“My little brother is failing math,” he blurts out.

All right. Not what I expected. “O-kay.”

“His GPA is almost below the requirement to play sports, so yesterday his coach texted me and wanted to meet immediately.”

I have so many questions but the first one out of my mouth is, “Why did he text you?”

“Because I’m Flynn’s guardian.” He rakes a hand through his hair. His obvious discomfort makes me feel like shit.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that instead of storming out of here with no explanation?”

“I don’t like talking about my fucked-up family stuff, all right? I can be all in and not want to share every detail of my life.” His jaw hardens as his mouth pulls into a straight line.

I chew on my bottom lip. Crap. Crap. Crap. I’m a flaming pile of dog shit. I thought he was blowing me off and I might have overreacted a teeny tiny bit.

“So, are we good?” he asks, looking more composed, but his dark eyes are hard.

I feel like I should be asking him that. “Yeah, we’re good, Knox, but I’m still not sure this is a good idea. I don’t know how to help you. I thought getting you out of your comfort zone this week would help, but maybe I’m out of my depth.”

“You already have helped.”

Words I never dreamed of hearing from Knox Holland. “What do you mean?”

“Look.” He shoves his phone in front of me. The movement brings him closer. His arm presses against mine and I get a whiff of his cologne.

It’s a struggle to focus on the screen. The video is shaky, but I can tell it’s him. When he’s at the highest point of the jump, his legs fly out to the side and he lets go with one hand. It happens so fast that I don’t have time to be scared it’ll go wrong. It takes my breath away.

I keep watching the video of him landing and then riding toward the camera, body language clear that he’s thrilled with the jump, until he stops it.

“That looked great,” I tell him honestly.

“I know.” He wears a proud grin. Totally transformed from the frustrated, rough edges just moments ago.

“I don’t think I helped with that.”

“No, you did. Look, you’re right. I’ve given you a hard time. And I still maintain that cartwheels are bullshit, but I don’t know, something about all of it has me more aware of my body. Even when I’m up in the air.”

“Really?” A flame of hope blooms in my chest.

“Really.” Knox pulls back and stands in front of me. “Don’t quit on me.”

“All right. I’m in if you are.”

“We’re still doing this?” he asks again, voice filled with cautious optimism.

“Yes.” I unlock my Bronco. “But not tonight.”

His gaze drops over my bare legs and then flicks up like he’s finally realizing I’m not in gym clothes. I swear there’s disappointment in his expression when his eyes drift back to mine. “Why not? Hot date?”

“I have a study session tonight.”

His cocky and playful grin is back in an instant. “Oh, okay.”

“Rest up,” I tell him as I open the door of my vehicle. “You’re going to need it tomorrow.”