Do Over Read Free Page A

hair.
    “They’re here,” Aster repeated, tossing her extensions. Her voice rose in excitement.
    “What’s here?” John asked.
    “The massage tables we ordered,” Aster said. “I’m not only an NFL cheerleader, you know. I’m a licensed massage therapist. Pre and post-game massages have proven to prevent injury and increase flexibility.”
    I winced and pressed my lips together. I didn’t want to be around when Mom heard this news. Dad’s fiancée wasn’t just an NFL cheerleader. She was a masseuse too. To keep from commenting, I stuck the lollipop back in my mouth and twirled the stick, enjoying the sugary rush. Couples counselors should pass out candy to keep people from saying things they shouldn’t. It would save a few marriages.
    Aster waved her arms toward the tables. “We only have two tables, so far, and only me and Paisley to work them. But I have plans for expansion.”
     
     
     

 
    Chapter Three
     
    What? Back that up. Only me and Paisley to work them? My hand stilled, and my eyebrows rose.
    “A fifteen-minute massage of your star players will make a big difference,” Aster said.
    John’s eyes brightened, and his cheeks flushed. He crossed his fingers and raised them to the heavens as if to say, Thank you, God . Trey had a different reaction. His lips twisted and he looked anywhere other than at the tables.
    It took me a second to come up with my own response. “Uh, I’m not working any table.” I swiveled my head to my father for backup. “Dad?”
    Dad sent me a fixed stare. “Star wants the team to improve, and she wants to spend some time with you.”
    Star was Aster’s nickname. I preferred to think of her as Aster.
    “I’m game.” John hopped up on the table. The memory foam sank, but to the table’s credit, the structure held under his six-foot-plus, big-boned frame. “I missed two goals last week. Like I was moving through molasses, I’m too tight and my kick...”
    Dad said, “That’s the spirit.”
    I curled my lip. No freaking way. Not even if they promote Pluto back to planet status and rename it Paisley.
    “No other local schools have these. Not Tomball, not Magnolia.” Dad checked his cell phone sports news app. He continued talking with a bent head. “We’ll start with our best players: John and Trey. If the regimen helps, we’ll extend the program.”
    “You’re sure you want Paisley to work with these guys?” Aster asked.
    “Please, she wouldn’t look twice at a jock. She wants an artsy guy.” Dad looked up.
    I gave a nod of agreement. Give me an intense thinker over a mindless pushup machine. “Artists have deep souls.”
    Trey snorted.
    Clipping his phone back into its holster, Dad shoved through the shiny blue door that led into the locker room. “I’ll give the guys a talk. I need them to use their anger over Ian’s nose in a productive way.”
    Without even a pretense at modesty, John whipped off his shirt and lay with his hairy chest flat out on the table.
    Ew.
    Aster moved to his ankles and squirted ointment on them. She proceeded to rub her way up his furry legs.
    The fragrance smelled kind of like medicine. The whole scene was like watching a sitcom where the actors were headed down such a horrific path. I cringed and looked away.
    “Ow.” John groaned. “Dude, these tables were worth every penny.” He grunted when Aster dug her elbow into one spot.
    I eyed the waist-high tables. “What’d they cost?”
    “Two thousand each,” Star said. “The football boosters had enough to cover it.”
    John poked his big blond head out of the face hole. “These tables took all our football car wash cash. The team took all weekend to wash that many cars. And the weather was cold.”
    Expensive tables.
    “Four thousand—not a bad fund raiser.” I tossed the stem of my lollipop into the metal trash bin. Two points.
    “Be sure and get the major muscle groupings,” Aster instructed while karate chopping John’s thighs. His moans came out in a