**Completed** Cole Galloway has always had just enough of an ego to believe that the women falling at his feet were deserved. With an abundance of charm and looks to die for, who wouldn't want him?
Wynona Caldwell. That's who.
When Cole sets his s...
Above, Lonely by Colony House. This song is sooo Cole. Below, Cole, courtesy of Drew Van Acker. Onward!!
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Cole
Being in Mexico should be a vacation. It is for most people, but not for me. I force myself through another grueling set of the elite military approved regimen my father had assembled for me before we left Texas, my body shaking under the strain of my self-imposed abuse.
All around me, there are people 'working out', only what they're doing looks almost leisurely by comparison. Off to my left, two plastic desperate housewives are badmouthing their supposedly worthless housekeepers, while to my right a paunchy, middle-aged man is gazing upon his bloated frame in the mirror as he does curls... with ten pound weights.
Yeah. That'll get you where you want to be, padre. I shake my head, wiping a towel over my slick face. My muscles throb with the simple motion. I might've overdone it today.
The hotel gym is well-equipped. No complaints there. In fact, there's even a worker who follows people around, cleaning up their sweat as they move from one piece of machinery to the next. I guess that's what you get in a hoity-toity, five star resort like this.
It's nothing but the best for the Galloways, after all.
I round out my two hour workout session with a series of burpies, sit-ups, and bicycle crunches, causing my abdomen to burn in agony. I know that's what it takes though, all this pain in the hopes of earning a rare pat on the back from my demanding father, Harris.
Damn, that's pathetic.
Still, I'm due my bi-monthly round of measurements and a weigh-in with my personal coach when we return to Texas, and I know there'll be hell to pay if I haven't added another few pounds of muscle by then.
We came down here for another Texas Oil and Gas Association committee meeting, which really amounts to nothing more than the great Harris Galloway glad-handing potential investors. He's good at it too, what with his bright white smile and charming sense of humor.
Man, does he have people fooled.
And because he's a board member, we do this shit all the time, running off to all sorts of exotic locales, and portraying ourselves as the picture perfect family we most assuredly are not. I probably wouldn't mind so much if I could actually enjoy my time in the places we've traveled.
But football is life at the end of the day. I'd better have my ass in tip-top shape, which means a daily gym session and jog, rather than wasting time away at the beach, where I would prefer to be.
Part of the joys of being QB one.
Having finally completed my beat-down session, I head back to the suite I share with my sister. My parents are staying elsewhere in the hotel, apparently in need of a reprieve from the burden of parenthood.
