Page 81 of On Her Team
I stand. “I’m Gage.”
He motions me forward. “You need to sign for this delivery.”
I make my way to him. “Where is it?”
“Follow me.”
I didn’t order anything, but it’s not unusual to get a package from one of my sponsors. Especially right before the season starts. Maybe my new cleats are here.
“This is it.” The delivery guy motions toward a pallet.
My brow wrinkles. I don’t normally get deliveries that are bigger than my sofa. “What is it?”
He shrugs. “Don’t know. Don’t care.” He shoves his handheld scanner at me and I sign it. “It’s all yours.”
“How the hell am I supposed to move this?”
“Not my problem,” he says and walks off.
I rest my hands on my hips as I contemplate what to do.
“Why don’t you open it?” Tanner suggests.
“Yeah.” Nolan nods in agreement. “It might bebulky but not heavy.”
“I can lift heavy.”
Brock snorts. “Sure, you can.”
I’m not arguing with Mr. Grumpy. “Whatever.”
I try to rip the box open but it’s taped shut.
“Here.” Corbin hands me a knife.
I cut the tape and open the box. “What the hell?”
I lift a package of socks out. Underneath it is another package of socks. I rifle through the contents of the box. Socks and more socks.
Tanner bursts into laughter. “Now, we won’t have to smell your stinky socks all season.”
I throw a package of socks at him. “My socks don’t stink.”
Nolan wrinkles his nose. “You don’t wash them, and I’ve smelled your feet.”
I cross my arms over my chest and glare at my teammates. “I wash my socks.”
“Only when we lose, which I don’t intend to do,” Corbin says.
“Which would you rather have? A winning streak or me smelling of roses?”
“Dude.” Brock grunts. “You never smell of roses.”
“Compared to your teenage son, I do.”
“Wrong. Since Jace became friends with his surfing instructor, he’s learned how to use a bar of soap. Am I right?” Tanner lays his arm over Brock’s shoulders, but Brock elbows him.
“Leave May out of this.”
