...Dusty parked his car at the beach and headed out toward the waves. He loved the beach in the early morning. The sand underfoot, the sound of the waves. The only people around were the hard-core surfers and a few runners. It was great. He walked down by the waves for ten minutes or so, before he started looking for his appointment.

Stephanie Connor had called him a week ago, frantic about one of her athletes—Kenn Majors. Everybody in the scene had heard what had happened to him over Christmas, but Dusty, just like everyone else, assumed the man was out for the year. Apparently Kenn and Stephanie thought that was a bad idea.

Dusty saw the man in the sling, jogging at the edge of the surf, solid and stacked. Working hard despite the injury. It was a good sign. As long as the guy didn’t overdo. It’d be a shame for that beautiful body to be injured any longer than necessary.

“You Dustin, man?” Sun-bleached blond hair, huge green eyes—damn, that was a pretty man.

“I am. And you’re Kenn Majors.” He held out his hand.

“You know it. Thanks for meeting me.” The shake was strong, sure.

“It’s my pleasure. I’ve seen you play—you’re great.” They started walking together along the beach. “Frankly, I was surprised when Steph called me with the news that you wanted to be back in shape by Worlds. You ready for the work that’s going to take?”

“I don’t have any classes this semester. I don’t have anything else to do. Moved out of the dorms and everything.”

“Girlfriend?” They could be huge distractions, and if Kenn was going to make it to the Worlds, there could be no distractions.

“That’s between me and my coach.”

“Sorry, Kenn, but if I’m going to be your trainer, I need to know what else is going on in your life.” Food, social life, sleep—how long and when—as well as exercise and training routine; he was going to be in all of Kenn’s business, and if the man couldn’t take it, then it wasn’t the right partnership.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” There was a story there, he’d bet.

“If we work together, I’ll be setting your schedule, your diet, your regimen.”

“Whatever I have to do. I have to play.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He believed it, too. You didn’t get to where Kenn was before he’d gotten hurt without having a lot of dedication.

The guy shrugged. “I have to play. When do we start?”

“Right now works for me. How long have you been jogging?”

Kenn’s lips twisted. “Two miles or so. I parked at Volente.”

“How long do you usually do?” From what Steph had said, Kenn had only just been given permission to get back into training. That didn’t mean he’d been following doctor’s orders, though.

“I haven’t been cleared. I was just running.”

“You always do things you haven’t been cleared to do?” He just wanted an idea of whether or not Kenn was likely to overdo.

“They said I couldn’t work out. No one said I couldn’t run.”

His lips twitched. “So you’re following the letter of the law, if not the spirit.”

“Nothing wrong with my legs.”

Kenn was into rationalization. Good to know.

Kenn started walking. “So, what do we do first?”

“I’d like to get you in the gym and assess you. See what’s still working, what isn’t, where we need to focus. I’ll be putting together a meal plan for you along with the exercise regimen. Can I ask what your living arrangements are?”

“I’m staying with my folks until I find an apartment.”

“Then I have a proposal for you. Come live at my place. I’ve got the equipment, a pool, a hot tub, I can keep an eye on your diet that way, make sure you stay focused until the Worlds.” He’d done it before, with folks who needed intense, full on immersion.

He got a curious look. “Did you clear it with Stephanie?”

One of his eyebrows went up. “She’s putting your training in my hands for the next six months. We’ll get better results this way.”

“Okay.” Kenn didn’t look too worried. “I just want to do what I need to.”