Chapter 4 #2
“We’ll get some rest in there,” I said. I wanted to get a better sense of how she stretched too, and we needed seclusion for that.
She breathed heavily. “I hate this.” Then she side-eyed me. “It’s the first time I’m not seeing you in a shirt with your gym logo.”
Because I wasn’t new here. Natalie ticked all the boxes of people who were ashamed of their health’s deterioration, and the last thing they wanted was to advertise the hard work they put into their recovery.
She didn’t want complete strangers to judge her for walking next to someone who definitely looked like a PT.
“I don’t have to be a walking billboard all the time,” I settled for saying, ushering her into the alley. “Let’s stretch out that pain.” No dumpsters, stray cats, or terrible smell. This alley worked. “Can you bend over and arch your back for me?”
She shot me a brief, incredulous look, and I had to smirk. Good to know her mind could head for the gutter.
“Um, okay.” She positioned herself so her ass was away from me, and she bent over a little. Not enough, but we’d get there.
“I’m just gonna touch your lower back, all right?” I asked to make sure before I stepped closer.
“Okay,” she repeated.
I went to her side and flattened my hand along the base of her spine. “I want you to push upward now, so you can stretch out your spine.”
She let out a labored breath and complied, creating an upward arc of her back.
“Perfect. Do that for a few seconds before you relax—then repeat.” I eased my hand along her back. “What does your workout schedule look like this week?”
“Um…I’m trying to get into a routine of using the treadmill every morning, and then I come back in the evening to lift some weights.”
That was good. We’d discussed that strength training was important to rebuild her muscle mass and boost her metabolism.
“What are your thoughts on swimming?” I asked next, withdrawing my hand. “Our pool sits empty most days from noon till five PM.” In the mornings, we had two instructors taking turns hosting classes for senior citizens and parents with babies, and in the evenings, we had water aerobics.
“I love swimming, actually.” Natalie huffed a breath and straightened up, and she rubbed at her spine. “I feel better now.”
I took a step back and clasped my hands behind my back. “You ready to continue? We’ll take as many breaks as you need, but I’d like to up the pace a bit.”
She gave me one of those stiff smiles. “Super fun. Let’s go.”
I grinned.
Was the concept of lying to oneself moot if you were catching on to the fact that you were doing it?
I eyed all the flannel shirts I had in my closet.
They were pressed tightly to the side to make room for shit I thought others liked.
Formfitting pullovers, nice dress shirts, suits, and slacks that made my ass look incredible.
But as time went on and I came home from horrible dates, I was beginning to have doubts.
The chick I’d had drinks with after work today had made me grateful I hadn’t asked her out to dinner.
But she was supposed to have been a good match.
She’d flirted with me at the gym, I’d eaten up the attention, she was younger and full of life, and I…
hadn’t understood a word of what she’d rambled about.
We hadn’t been on the same page in life for a moment.
Working out and being healthy were the only things we had in common, and even that had felt off.
Partly because I wasn’t sure I knew what the fuck I was doing anymore.
I was part of the big health machine chugging along on Instagram. I took the ginger shots, the supplements, and only ate and drank organic. And yet, I felt fucking obnoxious whenever I ordered food and had serious questions about the production and preparation.
I’d studied nutrition and physical health all my life.
I could tailor a diet for most people. I knew what worked.
I understood the whys and the hows. So, I very well fucking knew that not every beer I ordered in a bar needed to be organic.
I knew that I wasn’t going to die or get sick if I had pancakes for breakfast one day instead of oatmeal with whey in it.
I preached about variety and moderation to clients but had very little of that for myself.
My home was a reflection of my weird life choices too.
Instead of buying a nice house with nature as my backyard, like my brothers had, I’d opted for a brownstone loft with high ceilings and a shitty elevator that didn’t always work.
I’d gone for marble and stainless steel instead of oak and a fireplace.
Maybe I should—
The doorbell rang, and I took a breath and shut my closet. My kid brother was here.
I could question my whole damn life later.
I crossed my bedroom and the living room, then opened the door for him in the hallway.
He was holding two takeout boxes, and he lifted his brows at me. “When you said you had a date, I assumed you were gonna cancel… Now I’m seein’ you in sweatpants? I don’t think my brain can handle that shock, bro.”
I refrained from rolling my eyes and opened the door wider. “Nice to see you too, Lias.”
He smirked and entered. “Disgusting gyros for you, no bread, no fries, no sauce, extra lettuce.”
I accepted the takeout container and closed the door again.
Lias didn’t shy away from wearing his flannel shirts. Then again, nobody in our family did, aside from me. We were definitely a flannel and jeans family.
The game was about to start, so I’d prepared the coffee table in the living room with napkins, utensils, and beverages. Coke for him, water for me. ’Cause God forbid I had a fucking soda every now and then.
While I sat down on the couch and flipped the lid of my gyro salad, Lias did the same with his container. Except, he’d ordered a chicken kebab with all the fixings. Crunchy fries, pita bread, garlic sauce, and spicy sauce.
“How’s work?” I asked. I worried about him up there sometimes.
Lias had grown up as the family clown who loved to be around people, but ever since his girlfriend had broken up with him, he’d become a hermit.
He lived and breathed the campground he’d opened a few years ago up near Coho Pass.
Ma had to bribe or threaten him to come down for family dinners.
“It’s steady.” He bobbed his head and opened his soda. “Shit usually slows down this month, but so far, so good.”
Nice. I bet it helped that they were predicting a fairly warm September.
Even I went up there sometimes. He had both cabins and tents for rent—and a few old silver bullets he’d fixed up. Plus, the area was stunning, packed with hiking trails and activities. I kept my kayak and climbing gear at his place.
If it didn’t take so long to get there, I might’ve shown Natalie around. If one of the easy trails didn’t do it for her, she could try bouldering, kayaking, orienteering, or—
“So, the date was a bust?” Lias asked.
“Yup.” I stuck my fork into my salad and regretted not ordering the pita. “She didn’t even deserve an Ethan Quinn signature kiss.”
“Urgh.” Lias grimaced. “You should speak less.”
I shot him a glare. “Kid, you’re the one who wanted to come here tonight. Ain’t my fault your TV doesn’t work.”
“Where am I supposed to go?” he demanded. “Ryan’s not in town, Ma worries too much, Willow’s busy, Elise and Avery are having a goddamn board game night, and Darius is too happy these days. He smiles like every fucking day now. It’s sick.”
The annoyance kind of drained out of me, and I chuckled and returned to my food instead. In other words, he’d come to the brother who was miserable and alone like he was.
“It is kinda sick,” I admitted. “But don’t give him shit. He’s happy for the first time in ages.”
Darius had been a happy punk when we’d been young, not much unlike me, but his work had dragged him down over the years. I was happy he’d gotten together with Gray Nolan.
Nolan.
They weren’t actually related, were they?
I understood Gray and his brothers didn’t sound Southern—they’d been born and raised here in town—but Chloe?
Maybe she had a hint of a Southern accent, though nothing that could compare to Natalie.
Besides, the type of South was different too.
Natalie reminded me of an old college buddy from Georgia.
“Let’s just watch the game,” Lias muttered. “I’ll apologize for bein’ a dick once I have food in my stomach.”
I snorted under my breath.
“But I’m not completely out there,” he added. “I’m not the first to say you have some serious douchebag tendencies.”
I scowled to myself and shoveled food into my mouth.
No, he wasn’t the first. My whole family liked to call me conceited and whatnot, but they didn’t have a single clue what I was up against. More followers meant more business, which paid my bills, and they didn’t wanna see an old saggy fart grunt through his workout.
My health was fucking perfect, but I needed more than that.
I needed to defy my own age. I needed to be less forty-one and more twenty-six.
The following night, I texted Natalie as I stepped out of the shower.
I was hitting the sack early tonight. It’d been a long day at work, and my shoulder was still giving me grief.
Evening, Natalie. Ready for our hike tomorrow?
I applied deodorant and aftershave and hung my towel to dry before I walked out of my bathroom and aimed for my bed.
Had I taken my magnesium? I was fairly sure I had.
My phone dinged as I sat down on the edge of the mattress.
Hi! Yes, I’m ready. Thanks again for the swimming advice, btw. I had an hour to myself in the pool today too, and I don’t feel as sore and tense.
I was glad to hear it. I’d clearly walked by the pool at the wrong time, because I hadn’t seen her yesterday or today.
I replied to her.
That’s great news. Did you struggle with any food choices today?
I yawned and snuck under the duvet, wondering if I could cultivate a working relationship with Natalie that still allowed me to ask some personal questions.
I just wanted her input on some things. If I wanted to attract the right woman at some point, it was a woman’s opinion I needed, not my brothers’.
Considering Natalie was into women, she’d give it to me without bias too.
That was the silver lining.
Her response popped up seconds later.
My work is the problem. The day starts out great, but working from home and sitting down for much of the day makes me crave snacks. I did fairly well, but I had some popcorn after lunch.
Her work wasn’t the problem. It was boredom and restlessness, and instead of taking a walk outside, she took a walk to the cupboards.
I wrote my response to her.
You’re not the only one struggling with that.
Next time you work and you find yourself restless and craving something, I want you to come down to the gym.
5-10 minutes on the treadmill will take care of your urge to do something.
Many times, we mistake physical restlessness for hunger or food cravings.
Instead, you have some excess energy to get rid of, or you’re plain bored.
(If you don’t want to leave the apartment, you can also do laundry or clean.
But it’s important to get up and move around when you have a sedentary job.)
After sending it off, I leaned back against the headboard and checked my schedule for tomorrow.
I had grocery shopping with another client of mine at eleven.
He’d recently lost his wife and had zero knowledge about how to take care of himself.
I was covering for Laurie’s spin class at six too, and then I had my own kickboxing class right after.
At some point, I had to drive by my folks’ too. Pop had declared the barbecue season over for the year and wanted help cleaning and stowing away the grill, and Ma always had a grocery list.
Natalie’s next response made me frown.
That makes sense. I do get restless. I’ll try moving around more. Thank you.
I hummed. Way too few exclamation points for her. She didn’t use them excessively, but she was a cheerful woman, and I could usually find one or two in her texts.
This wouldn’t do. I answered again.
You’ve admitted that you have a history of bingeing, Natalie.
In the past, you have lost control with everything from ice cream and cake to sweets and chips.
What’s a bowl of popcorn in comparison? I’m not gonna go as far as saying a lifestyle change is 100% mental, but it is a significant part of it.
Try to focus on the progress you make. Perfection is an illusion that sets you up to fail. You’re doing great.
Her following text was much better.
You’re right. I know you’re right. Thank you for reminding me. I needed to hear it! I’m gonna try to get some sleep now. See you bright and early, Coach!
I smiled, satisfied, and wished her a good night before I moved on to my next client.
Cal was one of those who jumped from diet to diet, because he was certain whatever structure was wrong for him if it didn’t show him immediate results.
I kept trying to make him understand, and in the meantime, he’d paid for my kayak, my last trip to San Francisco, and a month’s mortgage payment or two.