From where I'm sitting in the motorboat with Derrick, I'm impressed that these women work so hard for their sport and don't get paid for it. They're doing a lot of the same things we do at hockey practice, just for the hell of it. At six in the f*****g morning.
My coffee is long gone, but I don't need caffeine to feel the thrill of watching Juniper row. I can't take my eyes off her, loving the determination on her beautiful face as much as the movement of her long muscles. “Why'd you call Juniper a meat wagon?" I ask Derrick, hoping he's not going to say something about her ass that will cause me to punch him in the face.
“What do you notice about her," he asks, not turning his eyes from the boat.
“I mean, that's a pretty loaded question," I shout back, not sure I like where he's goi
