Chapter 4 #2
“Turn around, stick that ass out, and attack!” Stacylynne cues us.
As instructed, we quick-run our feet, making our asses jump, bounce, and shake as we move toward the other team.
Stacylynne air-smacks Compression Girl’s ass, encouraging her.
“Let it go! The more it jiggles, the hotter it looks. Now is not the time to clench. Those cheeks need to be clapping like you’re making your own round of applause. ”
I run even harder, my ass feeling like I need to cut down on the donuts, but Stacylynne cheers us on even harder. “Thank you, next!” she calls, and the other team takes their turn.
The following round is hip circles and she yells, “Roll those hips like you’re riding .
. . something I’m not allowed to say!” She’s joking .
. . I think. At this point, I know Ross and Kaede pretty much give her free reign to say whatever she wants, play whatever music she wants, and be as crazy as possible because it only draws more and more people in.
Still, as she teases about riding dick, I can only think how tight my hips feel from sitting at a desk all day.
Hopefully, this will release some of that tension.
Shit. Between Jillian and now Stacylynne, maybe I really do need to get laid if my first thought about releasing hip tightness is hula hoop rolls, not actual sex.
I do okay for a while, but as the song changes from high-energy Latin to something sultrier, I can’t keep up.
We’re supposed to be belly dancing, hips swaying and hypnotizing with our eyes, but I’m just too tense, too focused on everything going on tomorrow and my nonexistent sex life to pretend flirt with the lady across from me.
And I’m still too out of breath from those ‘fast feet’ to smile at her encouragingly.
I fall out of rhythm with the beat, which normally isn’t a problem in Zumba because we’re encouraged to be creative, do our own thing if the music is speaking to us. But my own thing bites me in the ass as I switch my come-hither hands too soon and smack someone right in the face.
“Ow!” the woman yells, and I turn to see it’s Stripperella. Her hands are over her cheek, and she’s glaring daggers at me. “Jeez, Crossfit! Watch it!”
I’m so stunned that I don’t know how to react. Did she just call me Crossfit? I thought I was the only person who gave out little mental nicknames. And what does that even mean?
“I’m sorry,” I plead, heat flushing my neck. “Really. I just lost my place and . . . I’m sorry.”
Stripperella rolls her eyes, still looking ready to gouge my eyes out, but suddenly, Stacylynne’s there, patting Stripperella on the shoulder.
“You good, Mabel?” Huh, that’s Stripperella’s name?
I would’ve thought Candy or Diamond, not something so .
. . old lady-ish. Mabel nods, her tattooed on eyebrow quirked in my direction, and Stacylynne looks to me. “Courtney?”
I nod, wanting to melt into the floor.
Luckily, another song starts and Stacylynne runs back to the stage, leading us right into a merengue that I love. And one I actually know how to do, thank God. Still, I stay an extra step away from Mabel. Nope, can’t do it . . . she’ll always be Stripperella to me.
Finally, a slow song begins and we bachata to a steamy Prince Royce beat. Halfway through, Stacylynne guides us into stretches. “Face down, ass up, find length in your legs. Aim for tension, not straight legs.”
I could barely touch my toes when I started, but now, I can bend my arms and plant my elbows on the floor with straight legs. I feel a bit of pride in that, even though that’s not supposed to be the goal. It’s just my nature. Smash each goal and move to the next.
“Walk your hands out and find yourself in plank. Hold and breathe, closing your eyes.” I never close my eyes because it makes the voices too loud, but I do breathe. “Keeping your hands planted, lift your hips toward the sky and walk your dog.” I bend one knee and then the other.
To finish, Stacylynne always leads us in a big bow to complete our ‘performance’, and we clap for ourselves and each other.
I want to run for the door to stay away from Stripperella.
Actually, I want to ask her why she calls me ‘Crossfit’, but I don’t.
Instead, I walk over to the newbie. “Great job tonight! Keep coming. The first time is like sensory overload, but after a few classes, you’ll start barking when Stacylynne whoop-whoops too. ”
The lady laughs, as I intended. “Oh, my God, that was so crazy. She made this noise, and while my brain was going, ‘What was that?’, everyone was suddenly looking at me.”
“Happens to us all. And she plays flight attendant too.” I hold my arms up in a variety of the poses Stacylynne does. “It’s in case you can’t see her feet. Her arms will tell you which foot forward and which foot back.”
I can see recognition dawning on her face. “I was totally doing the flight attendant arms with her.”
I tap my nose and smile. “That’s how we know who’s new. I’m Courtney, by the way.”
“I’m Rachel. Nice to meet you.”
“See you every Tuesday and Thursday?” When Rachel nods, I smile. “I’ll hold you to it. You should talk to Stacylynne too. She can slow-mo the steps and give you tricks and tips if you want.”
Rachel heads toward Stacylynne, and I walk out of the studio, glad to have skipped out on Stripperella’s wrath and planning to hit the showers before heading home. Instead, I see Kaede right across the hall from the studio.
Kill me now. Was he watching class? Did he see me humping the air and acting like a sex-starved, dried-up old maid?
Intellectually, I know I’m not an old maid. I’m only twenty-six, for fuck’s sake, but the rest of it? Pretty spot on.
I feel my cheeks flush and know it has nothing to do with the workout I just finished.
I hold up my towel in a wave and then wipe at my face like I’m clearing off the sweat.
But really, I’m just hiding behind the terrycloth mask as I disappear into the women’s locker room. Also known as the No-Kaede Zone.
I take a cold shower, alternating between thinking Kaede watching me act sexy is a brilliant way for him to see me as something other than Ross’s little sister and thinking it’s my worst nightmare come to life. By the time I get out, I’m covered in goosebumps and my nipples are puckered up tight.
I get dressed, all the good feelings from class gone.
All the stress and nerves about tomorrow’s meeting come flooding back, and I decide to stop at the gym’s smoothie bar for dinner.
If I don’t, I know what’s going to happen.
I’m going to turn left outside One Life’s door, head down to the all-night donut shop some evil mastermind opened up a month ago across the street from the gym, and gorge myself on a cream-filled Long John. Or two.
If I do that, I’m going to feel like crap tomorrow.
So the smoothie bar it is, because honestly, the smoothies here are damn good.
I order up my favorite, a Power Blaster of almond butter, cacao nibs, spirulina, super-food, and two types of protein powder.
It comes to me super-thick and frosty in a huge cup, and I settle in at the bar.
“Hey, Tony,” a familiar voice says behind me just as I take a sip. “Can I get an EHS?”
“Sure, Kaede,” the guy at the bar says, and a second later, Kaede sits down next to me.
“Hey, Courtney. Mind if I sit here?”
“Sure,” I offer nervously.
He has always been the only one who could set me off balance. I’m steady, sure, and confident to a fault, some would say. Except when Kaede looks at me. He doesn’t even have to say a word, which is a good thing because he’s a quieter sort. But that just makes what he says that much more important.
I’ve spent hours contemplating what every sparkle in his dark eyes might mean, years wondering what mysteries lie in his mind, and what feels like forever wanting to be underneath him, caged in by his arms and body.
Thoughts of him are the only thing louder than all the other voices telling me to work harder, smarter, longer.
“How was Stacylynne’s class tonight?”
Okay, then, so he definitely saw me air humping. I slurp at my shake, praying the iciness will keep my cheeks from pinking up again. “Great. She’s always great.”
I’m such a conversationalist, I think sarcastically.
“Yeah, she scared the shit out of the investor today, but surprisingly, Kayla brought him around.” He shakes his head like he can’t believe that.
“I’m not surprised. Stacylynne is” —I search for the right word— “boundary pushing. In a good way. She helps everyone feel good in their skin and own their sexuality.”
I did not just say that.
“And health and functionality!” I add quickly, sending AJ a thank you for planting that phrase.
Kaede’s jawline pops, the muscle appearing and disappearing.
I’m not sure if it’s because I said sex or because I’m quoting AJ all of a sudden.
Or because I’m reading something into absolutely nothing, and this is just a one-sided misread on a completely normal conversation with your brother’s best friend.
Back on track, I ask a reasonable follow-up question. “How was the investor meeting?”
“Good, I think. He said he’s on board.”
My jaw drops, and before I know what I’m doing, I hold my arms wide. He looks surprised but comes in closer for a hug. “That’s awesome! Congratulations! You deserve it.”
His muscles are hard against my chest, and I remember that I don’t have a proper bra on because this tank has a built-in cami. But we all know those do absolutely nothing to disguise headlights, and I’m at full high-beam, so hard Kaede can probably feel them poking him like little pencil erasers.
We both pull back, and Kaede’s voice has gone deeper, rougher somehow. “Thanks, Courtney. That means a lot.” His tongue peeks out to wet his lips, and he says, “Just have to sign the papers this weekend.”
The smoothie guy chooses that moment to set Kaede’s cup down, and he picks it up, taking a healthy swallow.
I watch his Adam’s apple bob and want to lick the slight stubble that’s shown up because it’s so late in the day.
He’s just as handsome as he was when we worked together, maybe even more so.
He’s ditched the dress shirts and computer geek tablet he always used to carry for a One Life T-shirt that’s slightly molded to his ripped body, but more importantly, he just looks . . . happy. Tired but happy.
“I thought I was drinking the big smoothie. What is that?”
“The Eddie Hall Special,” Kaede says with a chuckle. “AJ’s invention. Named after a massive strongman he told me about.”
I look at the thick dark pink shake. “That looks . . . gross,” I admit. “What’s the pink?”
He holds it out, looking at it as if he’s never seen it before even though he’s the one who ordered it. “Cranberry juice. It’s not the best, but it’ll keep me going tonight.”
“Hot date?” I ask automatically, not wanting and needing the answer equally.
“No. I’ve got at least an hour of work to knock out before I can even dream of getting out of here,” Kaede groans. “Then it’s an amazing night of driving home, crashing into bed, and getting up at five tomorrow to do it all again.”
“Ouch! We must really be losers. That sounds too much like my schedule.”
“To the biggest losers in the city,” Kaede says, offering his smoothie cup. We clink rims, and he takes a sip of his. “So what about you? What’s up in Courtlandia?”
I smile at the silly name, which sounds outlandish and ridiculously whimsical coming from him with his stoic, straight face.
It’s something my family used to say when I would disappear into my head.
That he even knows it shows how close to my family he’s always been.
“The usual. Work, with a side of work, and an extra helping of work. I’ve got a presentation coming up, my first big time at the plate, and I might be stressing out over it a little bit.
” I hold my thumb and index finger up, an inch separating them.
Kaede reaches up with his hands, one cold from the smoothie cup and one hot and electric against my skin, and spreads my inch into something much wider. “Knowing you, your stress level is more like that.” He narrows his eyes, measuring the distance now. “But you shouldn’t worry a bit.”
“No?” I ask, taking a sip of my smoothie. “Why?”
“Simple. You’re brilliant, so you’ve created the best presentation possible. You’re always prepared, so you have planned for every potential problem and pre-handled them. And worst-case scenario, you can have them eating out of your hand with that smile.”
I am floored. Or something stronger than that. Maybe deeper than that? I am basemented. That’s not a word, but it’s all I can come up with right now because my mind is going bonkers, my body is buzzing, and my inner self has never felt so . . . seen.
“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me, Kaede. Thank you.”
He shrugs as though he didn’t just rearrange my entire mood about tomorrow with two seconds’ worth of a pep talk.
Picking up his smoothie cup, he clinks the plastic against mine again.
“No problem. I gotta get to work or I’ll never get out of here and will end up sleeping in my office on the couch again.
Have a good night. Oh, and Court . . .” I blink, still spinning. “Knock ’em dead, girl.”
As he walks away, I melt into a big pile of goo right there on a stool in the smoothie bar.