Wells didn’t come to the Golden Army gym to think. Thinking slows the reps.

All he needs is weight on the bar, heat in his muscles, and Coach somewhere nearby counting every lift… and every inch.

Coach leans over the bench, voice low and amused. “Good. Keep that head empty. Leaves more room for me to fill it with instructions.” “When the bar’s loaded and his head is empty and the bench is heavy… It's funny how that’s when his performance really rises.”

Wells grins up at him, breath steady under the bar. “Long as you keep spotting me, Coach… I’ll keep lifting whatever you put on top.”