Chapter 7
COURTNEY
Walking into One Life, I wonder how I’d let the hours get away from me. I told Jillian to leave around four thirty, and she’d packed her saggy, carpetbag Mary Poppins purse and virtually ran for the door after the rough day.
But I didn’t follow. Four thirty became five thirty, then six, and finally, it was nearly eight before I realized that I’d been staring at my screensaver for hours and not working.
So I’d packed it in and headed to the gym. Unfortunately, I’m way too late for a Zumba class, and honestly, I don’t need feel-good booty shaking. I need an aggressive workout that will make my body ache to ease the pain in my head.
Pick up heavy shit and put it down. Repeat.
That’s the only thing that has any hope of helping me tonight.
So I head to the back, where the powerlifters play, and get to work.
I set my bar up to do some deadlifts, using an empty bar to stretch and get everything loosened up.
My music is bumping in my earbuds, loud and growly and angry to spur me on and match my sour mood.
I’m just about to lift when I feel a tap on my shoulder. My first instinctual response is bitchy, thinking some bro-dude is doing his ‘let me help you’ spiel, assuming I’m interested in him, not in working out.
Thankfully, I don’t go full-on crazy bitch too quickly because when I look over my shoulder, I see AJ. I pull an earbud free and stand up. “Oh, hey, AJ.”
“Hi, Court, not used to seeing you out here on Tuesdays. No Zumba tonight?” AJ asks, his smile bright.
How does he know that I do Zumba? Am I that much a creature of habit? I laugh internally, knowing the answer is absolutely yes.
“Nah, had a rough day and needed some badass, alpha grunt work instead.”
“Whatever it is, I’m glad to see you out here. Cardio needs to be mixed with strength training and flexibility work. I saw those half-ass stretches you were doing.” He dips his chin, giving me a ‘don’t deny it’ look that makes me cringe, feeling as busted as a can of biscuits.
“Guess I just wanted to get to it.” I shrug.
“Safety can’t be rushed. Follow me. From the window . . .” He reaches his hands high, toward the skylights in the ceiling, and I do the same. “To the walls.” Both of us spread our arms wide in a T.
“If you say a word about sweaty balls, I’m out,” I tease, laughing. It feels good, or at least incrementally better.
Jillian’s directive to get some dick runs through my mind, but AJ and I are definitely not like that.
He’s cute, but a friend and nothing more, especially considering I’ll have to see him again.
And I’m ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure he’s completely smitten with Kayla, who returns the interest. I make a note to ask Ross if there’s a betting pool on when those two finally get together because I’d get in on that action.
After a few more stretches, AJ decides that’s enough. “Better, but can I give you a couple of pointers?” AJ offers, pointing at the bar. At my nod, he instructs, “Get your hips back.”
“Hips back?” I parrot, thinking I’ve been sticking my ass out pretty well as is.
AJ eyes look me over with almost clinical precision. “Yeah. Line the bar up with your toes . . . you mind if I touch?”
“Go ahead.”
AJ helps me adjust, touching my knee, hip, and shoulder as he explains the proper form geometry. “Okay now, chest up.”
“I’m not even sure what that means, AJ.”
He shrugs. “Like if you had a logo on your shirt, show me.” I position myself the way I usually do for deadlifts.
He shakes his head, stepping in front of me and dropping into a copy of my current position.
Then he puts the edge of his hands against his chest and mimes lifting, like holding your boobs up to get a good cleavage shot.
“Oh!” I say, making the adjustment.
“Perfect. Now, take in a deep breath, take up the slack, and . . . pull.”
The bar goes up, and I have to admit it felt faster and easier than normal. AJ watches, nodding. “You got it! Let’s try heavier now that your form is better to support the lift.”
I’m adding a few weights when I hear the deep, dark voice of my fantasies say, “You’re going at it hard tonight. Can I talk to you for a second?” I look up to find Kaede’s jaw clenched and his lips pulled tight as though he’s been sucking on a lemon.
Something’s wrong.
AJ nods. “Sure, boss, what’s going on?”
“Not you, AJ,” Kaede says, surprising both AJ and me. “You.”
“Me?” I ask, surprised. “Of course.”
Kaede’s face relaxes a little, and he even manages a hint of a smile, but it’s still off a bit. “Great. When you’re done here, in my office. Don’t want to interrupt.”
Kaede stomps off, and AJ gives me a confused look. “What’s that about?”
“I have no idea.”
AJ claps his hands, flipping back into his usual happy cheerleader mode. “Then we’re not going to think about it right now. We’re going to lift. C’mon, you got this!”
I do a few lifts of the new heavier weight, setting a new personal record for myself. Maybe it’s my grumpy mood, maybe it’s AJ’s precise help, or maybe it’s both, but whatever it is, it definitely worked.
“I see you’re still trying to seduce women to the dark side,” Kayla says as she saunters over while I shake out my muscles between sets. She reaches up, resting her wrist on the weight rack next to AJ and me.
She’s posing for AJ, I’m sure of it. And if there’s not a betting pool, I’m going to start one myself.
I laugh. “He did okay.”
“Hear that?” AJ says with more than a small touch of arrogant pride. “Courtney can appreciate good coaching.”
“Yeah, well, if he ever annoys you, I’ve got a teeny, tiny little hatchet that’ll take care of him real quick,” Kayla teases, jealously playing right into AJ’s hands despite holding her thumb and forefinger about a half-inch apart.
“You two are too much. Thanks for the help, AJ.” I start to put away my weights, but AJ and Kayla are making eyes at each other, part ‘I might kill you’ and part ‘I might fuck you’, so I back away slowly.
I hate to be one of those asshole people who doesn’t clean up after themselves, but I’m also not looking to be a third wheel for their hate-fuck or an accomplice to murder.
“No prob,” AJ says, eyes never leaving Kayla with a white-toothed grin flashing her way. Before I’m three steps away, he and Kayla start bickering again. Or flirting. It’s one and the same for them.
I use some machines and complete my workout, nothing as intense as the deadlifts but still enough to make my hips and legs feel like Jell-O.
Instead of going straight to Kaede’s office, though, I stop by the locker room for a quick shower.
I stand naked in front of my locker—yes, it’s actually mine and has the embossed brass name plate to prove it.
It was a ‘gift’ from Ross. I pull out the change of clothes I stuff into my bag every morning as part of my routine and get dressed.
I wish I had something other than sweats and a tank top.
In the mirror, I slick on some lip gloss and am holding a mascara wand when I stop.
What the hell are you doing?
Putting on makeup.
Why? To go see Kaede? What happened to ponytail, dinner, and home?
My hand lowers and I blink. My inner voice is right . . . what am I doing?
I ignore the thoughts because I can’t very well go anywhere with one mascaraed eye and one naked. So I finish putting on a little bit of eye makeup and make sure my hair’s at least brushed out before pulling it back.
I head through the gym one more time, finding Kaede’s office where he can look out over the entire training floor. Knocking on his door, I open it up to find him watching a training video on YouTube with his headphones in. “Kaede?”
He pops his headphones off, dropping them to the desk. He looks tired, his hair a mess and faint purple shadows visible beneath his eyes. He probably has some young, cute thing keeping him up late at night, I think grumpily.
It’s not that if I’m not getting any, no one should be able to. But I’ll admit that I’m jealous of this imaginary woman who’s getting some with Kaede.
He tries to give me a smile, but it looks faker than a three-dollar bill and it seems as though the mere effort of forcing it nearly does him in. “Hey, Courtney. Come in.”
He comes around from behind his desk, directing me to the couch. I sit, and when he sits down beside me, I can feel his warmth, so close I could reach out and touch it. It would soothe the mess of today, I know it would.
“So, how’s your day been?” he asks stiltedly, like he’s searching for conversation topics even though he asked to see me. “How was the presentation?”
I can’t help the rueful sigh that passes my lips.
“Nearly killed a woman today. Legit killed. But that’s a story for another time, if you don’t mind.
Trying not to think about that right now, and I definitely don’t want to talk about it.
” I go silent, doing exactly what I said I wouldn’t .
. . think about it. Again. With a shake of my head, hoping to rattle all the self-flagellation free and be thankful that it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, I focus on something else.
Namely, who is right in front of me, looking sexy as sin in a ruffled-hair, wrinkled-shirt, sleepy-eyed sort of way. It’s like he just woke up from a nap and is soft and fragile, words I would normally never use to describe him. “What’s on your mind?”
Kaede gives me a worried look, and I swear he leans in a fraction of an inch. Either that or it just got hotter in here. “Okay, we can leave that for now if you want, but I’m definitely going to want that story. Most important part, though—are you okay?”
I hold my hand up flat, wiggling it side to side. “Kinda. Maybe. Tell me what’s up and distract me from my shitshow of a day because it looks like you might’ve had one too.”