Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

LETTIE

R esting my head against the seat, I close my lids. I'm Dane Greathouse's girlfriend. Will his parents and my grandparents be happy, or will they fear what I do—that we could wreck our friendship beyond repair?

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" A man's crotch stands eye level, and I have to shake my head to process. His tight jeans and his Barbour vest scream money.

"Um, I don't know. I changed planes in Atlanta and closed my eyes as soon as I sat down."

He sits, locking his seatbelt in place. "Thanks. Jasper Cole."

"Jasper? Oh my God, what a coincidence. I'm Lettie Scott. I'm the new rider you're training."

"Well, if I knew we would be sharing a plane, I would have bought us first class tickets, but since it's only an hour flight, I can tough it out," he says, slipping me a crooked smile. "Are you ready to work hard?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. No distractions?"

Other than dreaming about Dane. Thinking about Dane. Imagining Dane over top of me and behind me.

"Nope. Totally focused on winning and gaining points toward the Olympic Trials."

After chatting a few more minutes, he opens his laptop. His fingers are thick, and I chuckle at how he types the wrong letter several times. Having already stuffed his ear pods inside his ears, he doesn't hear me.

I should do some classwork but focusing on anything, but Dane is a challenge. Dane may be my demise, so far I haven't been able to zone in on my studies even with my medication.

The flight is quick, and we head to baggage claim. I grab a rolling cart since I have three suitcases and only two hands. The metal carousel spits out the luggage, and Jasper says, "Are you ready?"

"No, I have one more."

"You have three bags?" he asks with wide eyes and creases along his forehead.

"Yep, regular clothes, [JD1] riding clothes, and lots of pajamas."

He barely n ods, and his lips press into a thin line. Once we have everything, he gets in line for the rental car and makes me come with him. "We'll ride together. I‘m going to have to keep any eye on you."

An eye on me? I almost protest, but it's less money for me, and he's my trainer.

On the way to the hotel, I text Dane.

Me: Landed, miss you already.

Dane: I should have tasted you before I left, then I could have you with me for days.

A hearty laugh escapes my big mouth, and Jasper gives me the old side-eye.

Me: Stop it. That's gross.

Dane: Far from it, baby.

"Is that a distraction?" Jasper asks, looking at my thumbs tapping furiously on my screen.

"No, my best friend made me laugh."

Best friend? Why didn't I say boyfriend? Old habits dies hard and we've only been a couple for a few hours. I promise myself that when I'm training, I'll put one hundred percent attention into what Jasper says.

Me: We're at the hotel. Can you video call?

Dane: Who's we?

Me: My new trainer was on the same flight.

Dane: Oh. I have practice, team dinner, and then it's team bowling night. Call ya after.

Me: Okay, I need to unpack anyway.

With a bounce in my step, I hang up my clothes and tidily fold the ones that were thrown into my suitcase at the last minute, before placing them in the chest of drawers. Despite having just thirty minutes before Jasper and I are supposed to leave for the equestrian center, I scroll through the pictures of Dane on my phone.

When I dare search social media, I find that he was tagged on the Stallions basketball account. It's an image of him dunking over one of his teammates, and the caption reads, No Distractions.

Those two words are floating around today.

Jasper and I arrive at the world-renowned training facility, and I'm in complete awe. I've trained and competed at many fancy places, but this one takes the cake. The first thing I notice on the drive is the hotel, ivory stone and sprawling longer than a football field. There's a large outdoor equine event space in front of the hotel with grandstands on each side.

But we drive around a mile past the hotel, and Jasper parks in front of a stable. I should say a luxury stable where the barn is temperature controlled, the wood is of the highest quality, and chandeliers hang in the center where buyers may come to look at a horse.

"Why didn 't my sponsors want me to stay here so I could get in extra time?" I ask Jasper as I scan the details of the opulent barn.

He clicks his tongue like I'm horse and I follow him like I'm a horse. "Staying on property is a distraction. Spas, hoity-toity restaurants. Your competitors will play mind games with you. It's best to stay off property, out of view of prying eyes." He comes to the third stall on the left, punches in a code on the keypad, and gestures for me to go in.

"Diamond Mine," I squeal. "I've missed you, big guy." I stroke his long nose, and he licks my hands.

"Saddle up. I need to video you jumping."

"Now?"

"That's why we're here," he snarks. "I've scheduled five hours a day of training time."

He hands me a schedule, and I give it a quick glance. Watching film? Yoga? I fold it and stick it in my back pocket before finding my tack in a locker at the end of the barn. After saddling up, we do flatwork and jumps while he videos me, and I'm exhausted.

I don't dare ask to quit but luckily, Jasper sees a friend, and they get into a heated discussion. I'm too far away to hear what they're saying but whatever it is, it's causing Jasper's face to redden and the veins in his neck to pop out. He stomps over and says, "Stable him. Let's go."

He watches me as I dismount and take Diamond Mine back to his stall. As I remove the saddle and pad from Diamond Mine, who's owned by Dane's parents, Jaspe r says, "I'll be in the truck."

That woman put him in a foul mood, and the ride back to the hotel is silent until a text message comes from Dane.

"I said no fucking distractions."

"We're in the truck, not doing anything, and you can't tell me what to do when we're not training."

"That's the thing, Elizabeth, for a month, you're mine… to train. You will get up when I say, you will eat, sleep, and train… when I say. Got it."

"Yes, but I can talk to whoever I want when I'm not eating, sleeping, or training. I pay you."

That's not true; my sponsors pay him. I think. I'm not sure how it all works. All I know is when I win, I get sixty percent of the prize money, and the owner of the horse gets a percentage too. However, I don't know whether the sponsors pay the horse trainer, or he gets part of the disbursement. I should know how the money works on the Grand Prix circuit.

He pulls to the valet, and I jump out.

"I expect you at breakfast at six tomorrow."

It's going to be a long month with this asshole.