Chapter 9 Izzy
Chapter nine
Izzy
“I’ve got to go, Becca,” I yell as I scramble around the kitchen to fill up my water bottle. “I need my keys!”
She stomps into the kitchen, handing me the keys to the vehicle she has been borrowing while her car is in the shop. “Why?”
“You know why. I’ve got old-lady workout class tonight.”
“Oh right. I somehow missed the fact that it was already Wednesday,” Becca replies. “Do you think Jaxon will show up?”
I take in her excited face and then wave my hand at it. “Change your expression, or you too will be on my list of ex-best friends.”
“He’s brought you coffee the last three mornings,” she says, choosing to ignore my threat. “And you did mention you were working out tonight. I think he might show up.”
“There is a big difference between him bringing coffee to our office and chatting for a few minutes in the morning and him spending an hour at a workout class with a bunch of old, out-of-shape ladies. Anyways,” I say, heading toward the door, “it doesn’t matter.
I’m not changing my life just because Jaxon has decided to make amends. I’ll see you later.”
“Have fun!” she yells after me, and I swear she laughs.
I climb into my car for the short drive to the school gym where our class is held, Becca’s words following me.
Jaxon has shown up every morning like clockwork, though his drink delivery has been narrowed down to an iced vanilla latte—my favorite for this time of year.
I’m not sure who’s helping him out, but he’s clearly got an inside source.
My guess is Carter.
I park in the lot behind the gym, my attention immediately going to the dark SUV parked two spaces away.
Before I can stop it, my heart picks up slightly, my stupid body reacting to stupid Jaxon Steele before my mind even registers he’s there.
It was that damn wink. It fucking did something to my insides that made me very attuned to the fact that this is no longer Jaxon Reid, the scrawny high school boy, but Jaxon Steele, international heartthrob.
It definitely wasn’t the feel of his cock against my ass in the golf cart. Nope, certainly not that.
But just like I have the past few days, I shove that feeling right back down where it belongs, reminding my traitorous body that we do not forgive him.
Even if I haven’t exactly hated talking to Jaxon each morning to start my day.
A tap on my window pulls me from my spiraling thoughts.
“Are you heading in?” Jaxon asks through the glass. “Turns out, you need a key to get to the weight room.” The sheepish smile on his face reminds me so much of the time we were twelve and he ate an entire batch of my mom’s cookies, that I almost smile. But I don’t. Obviously.
“Go home, Jaxon,” I say instead, not waiting for him to step back before I shove my door open.
He jumps out of the way just in time, saving his shins from an uncomfortable meeting with the bottom edge of my door.
“I need to work out,” he says as he falls into step beside me. “And I thought it would be fun to join a class. I was told this is the only one in town.”
“Yeah, but men don’t come,” I say.
He looks startled at that information, and just as I think I’ve won, another car pulls into the lot. Unfortunately, it’s the workout teacher and her husband, Joseph—the one man who does come to the gym during our workout time. Even if he doesn’t work out with us.
Jaxon raises his eyebrow at me as if to say, oh, really?
“Joseph doesn’t count. He does his own thing.”
Jaxon shakes his head, continuing to follow me into the school and down the hall to the weight room.
“Plus, there isn’t such a thing as workouts that are male or female specific.
I want to be here. It’ll be like old times—even if they clearly upgraded this space since I was last here.
” He’s looking around the newly updated weight room as he says the last part, and I can’t help but feel the pride that flashes through my chest. It is a very nice weight room.
I shoot him a glare. “Fine. It’s your funeral.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m pretty sure Jaxon wishes he were dead. Not because he’s the only man doing the workout with us, but because I convinced the teacher to change from our normal strength training to a HIIT class. And Jaxon is struggling.
Apparently, those muscles are just for show.
Not that I’m noticing his very toned shoulders. Or thighs. Or…hiney.
Damn it. I’m not sure how I ended up in the spot behind him, but I feel I should let The Hague know there is a new type of torture they should be keeping an eye out for.
“Doing okay there?” I ask as we break for water, unable to hide my smirk.
He stops drinking for long enough to smile back at me. “I was working out twice a day before I left home. How is Lucille keeping up better than I am?” he asks, referring to the seventy-four-year-old woman who’s in the spot next to him.
“Lucille is tougher than you,” I say as if it’s the obvious answer.
“I clearly need to up my cardio game.”
“Clearly.”
We both sip on our water, terrified that if we look ready to go, the teacher will make us start again.
“Remember the summer between our freshman and sophomore years?” Jaxon asks, shifting his hip to the side and stretching his glute.
“When you decided lifting every morning like the rest of the girls on the volleyball team wasn’t going to be enough to get you that starting spot you so desperately wanted?
So we decided we needed to add agility drills?
” He laughs at the memory; one I haven’t thought of in a long time.
“And I tripped over the ladder the first day and sprained my ankle?” I ask, reaching out and shoving his upper arm. I quickly pull my hand away as if it’s on fire. Because maybe it is. Or maybe it’s sprained after making contact with the man’s boulder of a shoulder.
Jaxon seems unfazed by the gesture though. “Yeah, but you still insisted on lifting every day. You’d crutch in here and then hobble around; adamant you do everything you could without your legs.”
“My mom was so pissed,” I say, remembering how she’d all but banned me from coming.
“Until you promised her you’d bring every weight to me so I wouldn’t be walking around without my crutches.
” Catching myself smiling at him, I look away.
“I’m pretty sure you didn’t get anything done except changing out my dumbbells for me. ”
He shrugs. “It was worth it.”
“Right,” I say. “I’m sure.”
“Hey, we got you that starting spot, that’s all that mattered.”
The tough thing is, I believe him.
“Okay, everybody!” the teacher says, her long, blonde ponytail swaying as she makes her way back to the front of the class. “Back in your spots. Time for round two of cardio. Then we’ll hit some core before we call it a night.”
“Good luck out there,” I say as I set my water bottle down, ready to see Jaxon sweat.