PREVIEW

... Most of the lads were already peeling off GPS vests and tossing bibs into the bag by the halfway line.

Leo was sweating, breath heavy, but not gasping.

Since Fletcher had stepped into the middle of the rondo, Leo hadn’t lost the ball once.

The passes came clean — sharp one-twos, disguised layoffs, a little shoulder drop to create space when he needed it.

As the group started walking back toward the building, Fletcher matched his stride with Leo’s.

"You’ve ...

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