Chapter 7 #2
It was called being funny. Kind of.
“Be very clear about which brother,” Darius told Avery as the guy headed off.
Wait, he was serious? Goddammit. He was gonna tell Elise some shit, and then I’d have to explain to her and give her context.
We weren’t bitching about others’ ideas of perfection.
It was mine. Or the one I’d claimed to be mine for years.
Fuck me, the internal voices could suck my balls. I’d come too far to change everything.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it!” I called after Avery.
Asshole.
I blew out a breath and felt pressure rising in my chest, and it pissed me off. Teasing among brothers and buddies was one thing—I could handle that, and I gave as good as I got—but the doubts that’d started piling up lately put me on edge.
I was doing everything I could to compete against guys almost half my age.
My business was cutthroat, both on and off the internet, and I’d witnessed fitness empires with twice the following I had fall from grace.
Granted, most people eventually sold out and began pushing supplements and shakes, anything to make a buck.
I hadn’t done any of that. I’d never accepted a sponsorship deal or a collab on Instagram.
I wasn’t a goddamn influencer. I was there to preach what I believed in—but I still needed those followers.
They spread the word. They signed up for online coaching.
But it was rough out there, even when you didn’t sell out.
When everyone was on the same platform, the men and women with decades of training and degrees trying to tell people health offered no shortcuts…
well, they eventually faded away, because trying that twenty-two-year-old’s magic pills was much easier, and he had the eight-pack and a million followers to show for it.
When it was his turn to crash and burn over some kind of controversy, two new influencers were ready to take his place and shoot for the stars. Meanwhile, the rest of us, those of us relying on education and science, competed for scraps.
“Are you all right, man?” Darius asked, studying me. “I know I give you a lot of shit, but it’s because I don’t get all these changes. The guy I grew up with didn’t give a flying fuck about…well, pretty much everything you claim to care about today.”
I wasn’t getting into it with him. He wouldn’t understand. But ironically, I wasn’t changing at all. I was trying to cling to a past I’d outgrown. Because while I didn’t sell out and try to make millions off gullible people, I had to look like someone who could sell anything.
On the other hand, Darius might understand the trials and errors of running a business. It wasn’t as if his restaurant had been successful from the beginning.
So, I deflated and drained my beer, resigned to open up a little—yet keep things simple for my caveman of a brother’s sake.
If I mentioned social media and PR, he’d spit boomer nonsense about how unnecessary that was.
He was only three years older than I was, but mentally and culturally, he was stuck in the Dark Ages.
“My employees think I’m old,” I admitted. “They used to jokingly call me boss but still wanna grab drinks on Friday. Now they make plans when I’m not around, and they call me sir. I’m becoming irrelevant.”
Darius side-eyed me, confused and bewildered, as he flipped the chicken tenders on the grill, and then he gave me his full attention.
“Why do you care? I understand that a twenty-five-year-old yoga instructor with a pep in her step and a Colgate smile is good for business, but why do you wanna be friends with those people? Y’all got fuck-all in common. ”
That was the kick in the head, wasn’t it? To realize I actually didn’t want to be friends with them. Those were the women I’d dated, the guys I’d tried to keep up with… But it was more than that. It was the reminder that I was falling behind.
“I don’t like being excluded because I happen to be out of my twenties,” I said stiffly.
Thirties too. You’re out of your thirties too.
What-the-fuck-ever.
Darius shook his head, failing to understand, and then he moved on. “So, this new client of yours. She just walked up to you and called you pretentious?”
“No.” I clenched my jaw, knowing I had to fix that mess somehow.
It was possible I had tried to convince others what I couldn’t make myself believe in fully.
As in this batshit crazy version of perfection I was trying to achieve.
“We were talking while she was on the treadmill. I said I was everyone’s type—screw you.
” I all but growled the last part as he cracked up.
He was trying to hide it behind a few coughs, and I hoped he choked.
“Anyway,” I gritted out. “She made a noise and kinda blurted out that not all women are into pretentious gym owners who shave their chests.” Yeah, good luck trying to stop his laughter now.
Motherfucker. “And there’s that fucking insult again.
It’s the second time this year some woman’s said that. ”
I didn’t know what was more difficult, getting Darius to quit laughing or getting likes in the fitness community with a rug on your chest.
It wasn’t like I fucking shaved because I loved it. I would assume women who shaved their legs all the time could empathize.
I flicked a glance toward the cars as a rusty old truck pulled in, and I was about to look away again when I saw the woman who climbed out. What the fuck? It was Natalie. It was fucking Natalie. Where was her turquoise Jeep?
“It’s her,” I blurted out.
What was she doing here?
“Huh?” Darius’s amusement morphed into confusion.
“It’s her. She’s here.”
Natalie Nolan.
So it was true. She was Gray’s family.
Darius followed my stare and lifted his eyebrows when he saw her.
“I did wonder about her last name—if she was related to Gray,” I admitted.
My brother faced me again with a smirk. “Your new client is Natalie?”
I looked to him sharply. “You know her?” Why did that irritate me?
Darius laughed again. “It’s Gray’s aunt. I can’t fucking wait to tell him. And I’m gonna buy that woman a drink sometime.”
“Fuck.” I ran a hand through my hair and wondered if I should go track down Lias.
He was probably hiding in the cabin. Maybe he could share his hiding spot with me.
Him, hiding from Ma. Me, hiding from a force of nature.
Jesus Christ, this wasn’t happening. “It’s possible I’ve come off as an ass to her. ”
“Yeah. I take that for granted.”
Thanks.
Fuck.
I suddenly felt nervous, and I didn’t fucking do nerves.
I glanced around us again, hoping the answer would come to me, hoping a hiding spot would appear—or a distraction—but it looked like I was out of options.
I had to man up and talk to her. She was getting closer, about to cross the stream, so it was only a matter of seconds before she spotted me.
“Give her a fresh start,” Darius told me. I furrowed my brow. A fresh start? “Go over to her, apologize for whatever you’ve done, introduce yourself, and start over.”
Was he high?
“Where the hell did that come from?” I asked.
He took my beer bottle from me. “Just trust me when I say it works. Go over to her.”
All right, all right, all right, I was going.
I scowled to myself and walked off, but I wasn’t sure I could give his suggestion a go.
I had to own my shit and explain myself, which was hard when I hadn’t made up my mind about what I believed in.
Coaching others was a goddamn breeze compared to coaching myself, and now my mind was fucked.
Was I ready to make changes? Consequences be damned?
Natalie spotted me, and what struck me was that she wasn’t surprised to see me.
She’d known I was going to be here. Or she had suspected.
Was I supposed to be annoyed she hadn’t told me she was related to Gray? I’d had my thoughts about her relation too, and I hadn’t asked her. I reckoned it hadn’t mattered enough to me who she was related to.
The careful sheepishness was clear on her face when we were less than ten feet apart, but I was more focused on the fact that she was in pain.
She didn’t want to be here. She’d put on a nice blouse thing with flowers on it, and she wore another pair of those ass-hugging leggings that looked like jeans, but her posture screamed of discomfort, her expression was a little pinched, makeup was minimal, and she hadn’t done that wavy thing with her hair.
She’d just pulled it back in a high ponytail.
My life would be much easier if I could form the right words around her. Something about her beauty tripped me up. It was in her eyes, the shape of her pouty lips—fucking everything.
I’d learned it was wrong to comment on a woman’s appearance if you wanted to express you preferred something else, but I couldn’t lie. The minimal makeup did it for me. No glossy glue on her lips, none of that smoky thing around her eyes, just long lashes.
“Hey, Gray’s aunt,” I said with a faint smirk. “My brother just informed me we’re kinda family.”
“Heh.” She shifted Jayden’s gift in her arms and came to a stop.
“Yeah… I’ve been trying to come up with a nice explanation for why I haven’t mentioned anything—because I’ll be honest, I’ve known from the start, pretty much.
” She cleared her throat. “Truth be told, I didn’t want to talk about it.
I didn’t want there to be anything that could come between our professional relationship. You’re the best PT I’ve ever had.”
I smiled. Flattery went a long way, but she had nothing to worry about. “It’s fine. I get it. PTs are like shrinks and hairdressers—once you find them, you need to have the right chemistry too.”
Relief flashed in her brown eyes. They really were something else. “Exactly. Thank you for understanding. I guess I’m…protective. Of what you and I have, I mean. I don’t want to muddle things.”