Chapter 22 #2
“Beck, no. I’ll…” Sloan starts to say, nervously giggling now, looking around the room like she wants to escape.
“Little Dove,” I entice her.
“How do you expect me to…?” Sloan starts to question, scanning me from fingers to toes.
Hopping down, I scoop her up, wrap her legs around my waist and jump back up on the pull-up bar. Sloan immediately crawls up my waist to my chest. Clinging to my chest, she wraps her arms around my neck like a baby sloth does from a tree branch.
“Hold on tight, Little Dove,” I whisper in her ear.
Her breaths start to come out rapidly but she holds on tight, as I start to do pull-ups with her wrapped around me. Her warm breath grazes my neck, leaving goose bumps in their wake.
“Show-off,” Sloan grumbles under her breath.
“What was that?” I laugh, pretending I couldn’t hear her. Trying to ignore the sensation of her lips so close to my neck.
“I said you’re a show-off, Beckett Scott,” Sloan growls.
Fuck. Her growl is sending shivers down my neck.
“Oooh shit. I get a full name scolding. There she is. Show me that fire. Now put your hands on the bar between mine,” I command her. Trying to tease her. While trying to think of anything but her pliable soft body against mine.
Maybe I should’ve thought this plan out first.
“Beck, I’ll fall,” Sloan hesitates.
“You won’t. I have you. Trust me,” I reassure her. “Just place one hand at a time, between mine. You can do it.”
I widen my hands a little bit to give her more room. Sloan’s tiny hand pokes out from my sweatshirt as she reaches up onto the bar.
“Good girl. That’s it.”
I feel her body tremble around me. I’m not sure if it’s from fear or from me calling her a good girl. But Sloan reaches up with her other hand, letting go and trusting me. Sloan’s legs squeeze tighter around my waist. I count backwards from twenty in my head to try to keep myself from getting hard.
“I got you. Now on three, pull up with me, my weight will give you a boost,” I instruct.
“On three…” Sloan whispers, exhaling a deep breath like she’s terrified.
“One… Two…Three…” I count, pulling us up on the bar.
I watch her face light up with joy as she pulls herself up with me.
“Ten reps, okay?”
“Yes. One… Two…Three…” Sloan counts pulling herself up again, relaxing her legs slightly around my waist. She has a smile on her face and determination in her eyes. Her brows are furrowed and sweat beads on one of them.
It’s kind of adorable how focused she is.
“Well, this is cute,” Ash rags, coming up next to us. His eyes gleaming at the sight of Sloan wrapped around me. Good thing she’s facing my chest and can’t see the look in his eye.
Sloan squeaks and lets go of the bar, startled by Asher’s outburst. I barely keep us from falling but I land on the ground still holding onto her with one arm, using my other arm to sort of balance with my hand still on the bar. Once we are both stable, I place her gently down on the mat.
“Jesus, Ash. Warn a girl,” Sloan says, grabbing at her chest.
“Sorry, Sloan,” Ash says, grimacing. He walks closer to her, pulling her into a side hug.
“What are you two up to?” he questions, eyeing me suspiciously.
“Sloan wants me to slow down because of the concussion. I said I would, only if she would work out with me. So, we’re working out. What’s it to you?” I glare at him.
Asher raises his hands up like he means no harm. “I’m just curious. Chill man.”
“Actually, this is perfect timing,” Sloan says, breaking the tension between us.
“What is?” Asher and I both question.
“Beck thought you should create a meal plan for me, since I’m going to be training with him. Do you have time to come up with one for me?” Sloan asks sweetly.
Asher softens toward her. “Of course I do. Wanna head back into my office?”
“Yeah, if we’re finished?” Sloan questions me.
“Almost, Little Dove. We gotta stretch first or you’re gonna hate my guts tomorrow.”
“How do you know I don’t already hate your guts after that terrifying encounter?” Sloan says sarcastically, pointing to the pull-up bar.
“Smart ass.” I nudge her gently with my elbow.
“Make sure you do some hamstring and tricep stretches.” I point at her as she slowly sits down on the ground.
“Yes, boss.” Winking at me.
Sloan spreads her legs wide and folds herself in half to touch her toes.
My mouth goes dry, she’s hella flexible. I cough, adjust myself and turn my head. I start to stretch myself to try to distract myself from how limber she is.
Fuck.
“Is it cool if I ask you some questions while you stretch?” Asher asks Sloan but stares at me with a gleam in his eye like he knows what I’m thinking.
Prick.
“Sure,” Sloan hesitates.
“So in order to create the perfect plan for you, I’ll need to know your height and weight. I’m not sure how comfortable you are sharing that with me or if you’d need me to weigh you,” Asher states warily.
My eyes immediately meet Asher’s and then her. Watching Sloan’s body language change drastically from the start and end of that one sentence has me watching their interaction intently while I continue to stretch next to her. Sloan went from almost euphoric to deflated in an instant.
“Um…” Sloan starts.
“If you aren’t comfortable, I could try and figure something out…” Asher utters tentatively watching her closely too.
“No…” Sloan trails off, looking down at the ground and then away. I can feel the anxiety coming off of her.
“Little Dove, I can step away if you’d be more comfortable,” I offer.
“No,” Sloan says firmly, turning and looking at me. “I mean, stay please. Um… Can I finish stretching and then we can talk about it together in your office? I just…” Sloan stumbles through her words.
“That’s fine, Sloan. Take your time. I’ll be in my office. Just knock when you’re ready,” Asher offers, gently squeezing her shoulder when he gets up and walks toward his office.
“Sloan, if you aren’t comfortable with the nutrition plan.
You don’t have to do it. I didn’t suggest it to be hurtful.
My workouts are just demanding on my body, so I know they will be on yours.
What you may normally eat won’t be enough to keep up with your muscle recovery.
I don’t—in no way, shape or form—want to control what you eat.
Neither does Asher. He just makes suggestions for how many calories and how much protein you should try to meet every day so you stay healthy and strong.
You can eat whatever you choose in that capacity, it’s just like a roadmap to make sure you stay on course with your goals,” I try to explain to her so she knows I don’t have an ulterior motive.
Sloan is so beautiful, petite but slightly underweight, and I would never ask her to change her body.
After watching Sutton struggle with her body for years, I learned even more so to be so careful when discussing food and body image with others.
We never know who suffers in silence. Even some of our incredibly fit athletes suffer from body dysmorphia and anxiety-induced eating disorders.
“I know you both are being helpful, Beck. I’m just scared…
” She falters as tears start to stream down Sloan’s face.
“I haven’t weighed myself in a long time but I know when I left, I was too thin, starving so I could be as empty as I felt.
I try not to look in the mirror anymore because I hated that ghost of a girl that was always staring back at me.
She’s not me. I want to take my life back, you know.
I just…I’m trying to figure out how.” Sloan’s crying harder now.
I scoop her up and pull her into my arms. I carry her back into my office, so she has privacy to break down, away from the prying eyes of others working out in the gym.
“You are beautiful, Little Dove. You deserve to feel just as strong and beautiful as you are, but on your own terms,” I offer softly, running my fingers through her hair to soothe her.
“But you call me Little Dove, like a fragile little bird. You even said that in the hospital,” Sloan spits out, while she continues to cry.
“I was hurting when I said those things to you. So angry at myself for getting myself knocked out and put in the hospital. You are tiny compared to me, like a little bird, but you are far from fragile. I’m sorry I ever made you think that you were.” I kiss the side of her head gently.
“Thank you,” Sloan whispers through her tears.
“For what?”
“This. Just letting me cry. Without holding it against me.”
“Any feelings you have are valid, Sloan. I would never hold them against you.” Holding her close to my chest.
“I’m ready now, but I’d like for you to stay with me while I talk to Asher, please?” She looks up at me with the saddest eyes.
“Always, Little Dove.” I kiss the side of her head, gently releasing her from my hold.
Standing up, she reaches for my hand. I take it gently in mine and we walk out the door and head toward Asher’s office. Sloan leans her head gently against my shoulder on the short walk there.
My protective instincts kick in and are on overdrive for this girl. “Do not make her cry,” I growl out to Asher the second we walk through his open door.
What is this girl doing to me?
“Yes, please come in! I just love a growly Beckett Scott,” Ash says sarcastically with the tiniest hint of mischief sparkling in his eyes. Like he knows something I don’t.
“And I promise not to make you cry, Sloan. Not because asshat told me not to but because I don’t want to make you cry,” Asher assures her.
She giggles and sits in the chair across from Asher.
I make a note to stand directly behind her with my arms crossed, watching like a hawk to make sure he doesn’t upset Sloan.
“So dramatic. Can we get on with it?” he sighs, rolling his eyes at me.
Sloan turns and gives me the side-eye but continues to laugh at my antics.
“Please.” She smiles at him.
I love this girl’s laugh. When did I start to love this girl’s laugh?