As they stood at the base of Mount Bonnell, Jamar tilted his head back and stared up at the thick clouds hovering overhead.

“Are you sure about this, Taylor? It’s going to storm.”

She brushed off his concern with a dismissive wave. “We don’t have to worry about the rain for a few more hours.”

“Really? Is meteorology one of your secret talents?”

“Well, if it was a secret talent, I wouldn’t tell you about it, would I, smart-ass?” She swept across her phone and held it out to him. “My weather app says the rain isn’t coming until late this afternoon.”

“Far be it from me to question the scientists at Apple, but this sky?” He pointed upward. “This sky is calling bullshit.”

“You know what? In the end, it doesn’t matter because I’m the trainer, so I make the rules. And I say we’re hiking Mount Bonnell. We’ve been working together every day for nearly two weeks, you should understand this by now.”

Yes, he understood her by now. He understood that she could be stubborn as hell when she wanted to be. He threaded his arms through the sleeves of his hooded running jacket, then knelt to tighten the laces on his tennis shoes.

“A little rain never hurt anyone,” Taylor said as she twisted from side to side, stretching her obliques. “After all, you need to be ready no matter what the conditions are on any given Sunday.”

Except when those clouds opened up, it wouldn’t be a “little” rain. He’d lived in Central Texas long enough to know when a washout was imminent.

“For someone who claims to know so little about the sport, you sure toss out football facts when they suit you.”

“I’ve been watching ESPN.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m totally lying,” she said with a laugh. “Since you’re so concerned about the rain, I’ll cut out the hamstring and quad exercises I’d planned for our climb to the top. Instead, we’ll make this a timed run up the staircase. Once we get to the summit, we can run the trail.” She put one foot up on the third step and leaned into a quad stretch. “I brought you here because navigating that trail will help with dexterity and conditioning your knee to adapt to various playing conditions.”

“You know, there’s this thing called ladder drills that we could have done at the gym.”

“Who’s the trainer?”

He blew out a deep sigh. “You’re the trainer.”

“Thank you,” she said with a sharp nod. “Now, my fastest time up this staircase is just under five minutes.”

“Pfft. I can break that record in my sleep.”

Straightening from her leg bends, she narrowed her eyes as she propped her hands on her hips. “You know, one day that mouth of yours will write a check that your cocky ass can’t cash.”