Chapter 2
2
HANK
W hen I landed back in Charleston yesterday, the first thing I did was Google the closest gym to my apartment. Working out was like cheap therapy and God knew I needed it. I also probably needed actual therapy but that’s not something I’m willing to get into right now. I had just finished my last tour and was set to start my new job next week. Without access to the base and the gym that sits behind the gated entrance, I knew I was going to have to find a place to get in my daily lift.
It was weird to think that I was “retiring” from the military. I was only twenty-nine for Christ’s sake. But I’d served for almost eleven years and it was time to move on. Enlisting right out of high school was something I never regretted. It got me out of a shitty home life, out from under my alcoholic father’s fist, and helped me gain some insight on the world. Plus, it didn’t really count as retiring because to retire from the military you have to serve for over twenty years, and I hadn’t done that. After my last tour though, I was ready to head home and try civilian life for once.
When I called my buddy to see if he had any need for an ex-Army man to work at his security firm in Charleston, he told me to hurry up and get my ass home. So that’s what I did. I told my commander that I was ready to move on, filled out all the paperwork, and that was that. I finished out my active duty requirements and got on the first flight back to the Lowcountry.
My alarm didn’t even need to go off this morning before my eyes were open and I was ready to start the day. My body was still on military time and had me up promptly at 0430. Thankfully for me, I found a gym not even ten minutes from my apartment that opened at five. I got dressed, snagged a water from the fridge, and headed out the door. Since it was close enough, I jogged over from my place in order to get in some cardio before starting my workout. When I walked through the door, I was surprised by how many people were here so early in the morning. Most of the people in my life groaned when I told them about my early-morning wake up calls, but this place had at least twenty people in it already and the doors had just been unlocked.
I scoped the place out, taking in all the machines, racks, and places to workout. It wasn’t the biggest gym I had ever been to, but it wasn’t small either. There were plenty of cardio machines and free weights for people to use, and a solid amount of free standing weight racks too. Since I’d already ran and stretched before coming in, I walked towards one of the open racks to set up for my lift.
As I passed the stairmasters, I saw a girl who looked like she was my age sitting at one of the free racks near the front of the gym. Her legs were crossed in front of her and she had her head low. When I got closer, I realized she had a book in her hands and looked like she was fully entranced by whatever she was reading. My head spun to watch her all the way from the opposite side of the weight room.
Who reads when they’re at the gym?
Eventually, she lifted her head and closed her book. I tried to avert my eyes so she didn’t catch me staring at her. The last thing I wanted was to be pegged as the gym creep. As she completed her set, I started to notice more about her.
Dios mío, ella es bonita.? 1
She had blonde hair that she had pulled back into a high ponytail that sat right on top of her head. Based on the length, I guessed that when it was down, it would hit her just below her shoulders. She was fit and had strong legs that I knew could probably leg press close to 300 pounds. She was wearing a black, short-sleeved cropped shirt that hit a few inches above the tight, black biker shorts she was wearing. A few inches of her stomach was exposed between the gap of her shirt and shorts. On her feet were a pair of white Nike Blazers, the black swoosh noticeable from across the gym.
Those are probably way more suitable for lifting than my boots I thought, looking down at my dusty, worn in combat boots. I thought about changing before leaving my apartment but I had always worked out in them before and I wasn’t going to change that now. Just because I was no longer in the military didn’t mean I wasn’t an Army man.
Army men wore their boots. Always.
Realizing I had spent way too much time watching reading girl from across the gym, I finally finished setting up my rack to start my lift. I couldn’t help but cast my eyes over to her every now and then to see if she had her nose in her book. More often than not, she did.
A girl who goes to the gym at 0500 and reads in between sets.
Interesting.