Chapter 4
Ethan Quinn
“I’m telling you—she’s a lesbian,” I said, stepping out of the shower. “Not a single lingering fucking look my way. Not one. And you’ve seen me.”
“Sometimes I wish you’d hear the shit falling out of your mouth,” Ave replied.
What? I was just speaking the truth. I wrapped my towel around my hips and headed for the sauna, and Ave followed. In a way, so did Natalie. The ghost of her. Man, she bugged me. She’d been in my head all weekend.
“So is this a client or a Tinder date?” Ave asked.
“I met her upstairs.” I didn’t specify further than the gym. There was a slight chance Natalie was related to my brother-in-law, and seeing as Avery was my other brother-in-law, I had another reason to keep my mouth shut about personal shit.
I blew out a breath and got comfortable on the top bench, and I rotated my shoulders. Today’s workout in the boxing ring had been brutal. Ave must’ve had a taxing weekend, because he usually—aw, fuck. I winced as pain shot through my left shoulder.
“Jesus, man. What did Elise do to you this weekend?” I rubbed my shoulder carefully.
Ave chuckled. “All the things her big brother doesn’t wanna hear about.”
I side-eyed him. Fucking dick. “Then why did you come at me like I was one of your snotty students?”
That made him laugh. Then he shrugged and wiped a hand over his face.
“I don’t know. I feel like I should step up my game.
We had Willow over for dinner on Friday, and long story short, she placed me in the dad-bod category when they were discussing celebrities.
She was talking about some actor, and she looked me up and down and went, well, he’s got that dad bod like you. ”
I lifted my brows. He shouldn’t read too much into that.
Both my baby sisters were autistic; Avery had married the one who thought a little bit before she blurted things out, and the other one was Willow.
Lord knew I loved them—they had everyone in the family completely wrapped—but their unfiltered truths could pack a punch.
Never ill intended. They were sweethearts, the babies in the family, significantly younger than the rest of us, and… utterly fearless around their brothers.
Willow couldn’t be around people too much, so that was why I’d agreed to two midnight workouts every week when my gym was empty.
“You’ve known her since she was two shits high—she’ll blurt things out—”
“And that’s how I know it’s the truth,” Ave pointed out. “I’ve grown too comfortable. You try being married to a pastry chef and see how that works out for your abs.”
I wasn’t going down that road with him. Ave and I didn’t have much of what one might call a sweet tooth, so unless that had changed, I didn’t wanna know the details. Fucking everyone I’d grown up with was married off and blissfully happy. It was sickening.
Once Avery had gone home to his family, I changed into a new pair of workout pants and a QFC tee, and I braced myself for my session with Natalie.
Daily messages helped in the way that I knew she’d handled the weekend somewhat well.
She’d beaten herself up a bit for eating too much ice cream on Saturday, and I’d detected traces of guilt and self-hatred.
She didn’t seem like a person who talked down to herself on an everyday basis; instead, I believed it stemmed from her stubbornness.
She was a strong woman, and on the off chance that she was related to Gray and the Nolan family, she was probably competitive too.
I met up with Laurie at the front desk and took a swig of my coffee. She was busy with a longtime member, so I logged in from the backup computer and checked this evening’s classes. Most were fully booked, so that was nice.
I heard Laurie mention happy hour on Friday but didn’t bother commenting. At some point, I’d lost my invite privilege. I was just the old boss now. Someone they called sir.
I was forty-fucking-one, not a senior citizen. A few years ago, we’d had a chill group of friends who went out to eat together. A couple of the guys had quit since then, two women had become moms, and the new recruits were in their early twenties.
Maybe I should dye my hair. Get rid of the gray. Try some face cream—
“Ethan, hi.”
I glanced over my shoulder and spotted Natalie. Time to get back to work. With that frustrating woman. She had to be a lesbian—right? I may have become irrelevant to my staff, but clients always fucking gawked. Or at least commented on my physique. But not her.
Definitely lesbian.
“Hey, Natalie. I see you came prepared.” If I lived across the street, I would’ve changed clothes at home too. “We’re actually heading out, so you can just leave your stuff here behind the counter.” No need to go downstairs to the locker rooms for just a pair of sneakers.
“Oh! Okay.” She handed me the shoes—Christ, her feet had to be tiny—and I placed them next to the lost-and-found on the bottom shelf. Then I wrote a quick note on a Post-it in case anyone got any ideas. “Where are we off to?”
“Just out.” I smiled and left the desk, grabbing a hoodie on the way. The weather was great for early September, and I didn’t wanna waste the last of the summer warmth indoors. “This might make me the worst gym owner out there, but treadmills are for logging results and rainy days.”
She followed me out, and I gestured up the street.
“We’ll do a thirty-minute walk, and then we can lift some weights when we get back,” I said.
“All of that sounds horrible,” she teased.
I grinned and set a moderate pace. The girl was so short that she had to take double the number of steps. “Didn’t you mention you enjoy hiking?”
“I used to love it.” Emphasis on used to.
“You’ll get back there,” I said confidently. “Today, I kinda wanna remind you that exercise doesn’t have to be a chore. You can get a lot done when you’re distracted by stellar company and riveting conversation.”
She laughed softly.
Woman, tell me you’re a lesbian.
Maybe my ego wouldn’t be so bruised if I didn’t find her so fucking gorgeous.
I’d done some digging this weekend too, so I had a good picture of what she was trying to get back to.
A literal picture. One search on her name had brought me to Design by Nolan, and the woman had clearly downplayed her success the other day.
She had stores in New York, LA, Miami, and Chicago, and famous people wore her jewelry in the online catalogue.
A-list actress Sophie Pierce had worn Natalie’s designs to the goddamn Oscars.
This was why I was on the fence about Natalie being related to Gray. I mean, wouldn’t he have mentioned that his, what, aunt…? That his aunt or whatever was some big shot in that industry?
On the other hand… She did kind of remind me of Gray’s mother, Chloe. They could be sisters.
Natalie and I walked up Hemlock Avenue, and I asked more about her weekend.
I noticed she was taking in the sights as if she was new to the area, and then she said she’d unpacked most of her moving boxes—which reminded me.
She’d mentioned something about that before.
So she was new in town. If she was related to Gray, that could be why Natalie hadn’t come up in conversation.
Within a few minutes, her breathing was labored, and I could tell she was in pain. But she didn’t say anything.
“Just keep in mind we have hills and cobblestone streets here.” I threw that out there. “Don’t compare this to a trek on the treadmill.”
Her smile was stiff. “I’m tryin’ not to.”
I liked her Southern accent.
If I remembered correctly, she’d lived in New York too—and her picture on the website sure as fuck screamed New York attitude. Goddamn, it was a sexy picture. Right up my alley, where soft and sweet met fire and claws. That was my type.
Too bad she was a lesbian.
“I was thinking on Friday, we could meet up in Westslope and go for a quick hike,” I mentioned. “No mountain trails or anything.”
She exhaled a chuckle. “No mountains sounds good. I’m more at the level of flat pavement and handrails.”
Hm.
“I’ll dust off my hiking boots,” she added. “When and where do you want to meet up?”
“I’ll send you the address of a place called The Last Stop,” I answered. “It’s a café and gas station before the dirt roads take over. And we’ll stick to nine AM.”
We’d decided to be more flexible on Mondays; sometimes we’d meet up early, and sometimes, like today, later in the afternoon.
“Got it. What if it rains?” she wondered.
I side-eyed her. “We’ll get wet.”
She turned a scowl to the ground and absently rubbed at her lower back. “My daddy would cuss me out if he were alive to hear me complain about bad weather.” She puffed out a breath and wiped at her forehead. “I’ve become way too comfortable.”
That was a running theme in my field. Adults tended to grow lazy, especially if other aspects of their lives were hectic and too stressful.
I gestured for us to turn left up ahead, so we crossed the street when a car had passed.
“How’s the pain?” I asked.
She made a face. “Embarrassing.”
She wasn’t the first of my clients who was self-conscious about that. Some even tried to hide that they were getting out of breath. Natalie wasn’t far off. She didn’t enjoy this for a second, which posed a problem for me. We were naturally geared to avoid what we hated, so I had to get creative.
I scanned the street, regretting choosing this one. It had more activity. We’d reached the heart of the Valley, where people shopped and met up for drinks after work, and I was willing to bet it made Natalie even more uncomfortable.
“See the right turn past Sally’s Café?” I pointed. “We’re gonna aim for the outskirts of this area again. It’ll get quieter.”
She nodded once. “Okay.”
Nobody could accuse her of being weak, at least. She pushed herself and did her best to maintain her composure, but I could tell the pain in her back was becoming too much.
Once we’d made the turn onto the side street, I pointed again, this time to the opening of an alley between two closed bars.