Chapter 9
Penny
Hell.
I might actually be in hell.
Christmas music is blaring.
My thighs are throbbing.
Matt is grunting.
And there is no end in sight.
“Git it, gurl! Git it!” he shouts gleefully while sweat beads fly from his glistening skin.
“If you say, ‘git it, gurl’ one more time,” I wheeze, “I promise I’ll murder you.” I throw his heavy-ass medicine ball up the wall for what must be the hundredth rep and lower into a squat and—by some miracle—I catch it.
Reps. Apparently, that’s what they call repetitions in this hellscape better known as Bossfit.
In fact, everything in this gym seems to have a cutesy little name.
Right now, we’re doing an RFT, or “rounds for time.” It’s like a competition with yourself where you do a series of different exercises as fast as you can to beat your previous score.
Here’s the thing, though: I don’t have a previous score.
Even if I did, I don’t think I’d care one bit about besting it.
All I care about is making it out of this workout alive, which is looking less and less likely.
“Woo-hoo, Penny! Woo-hoo!”
Keira.
That girl is dead to me.
After all, she’s the one who got me into this mess.
And now there she stands, her breathing steady, not a drop of sweat on her, cheering me on while she films her little videos.
“You’re dead to me!” I wheeze. Never let it be said that I don’t speak my mind.
“And… time!” Matt shouts and clicks a button on his stopwatch.
I collapse on the floor, my chest heaving, and lie flat on my back.
“It’s sweat angel time!” Matt yells and lies down beside me.
Sweat angel time? Gross.
“Is this normal?” I pant. “Should I be this out of breath?”
“Totally. If you don’t feel like your life is ending, you’re probably not working hard enough.”
“That seems unhealthy.” I try not to focus on the fact that he’s so close now I could touch him. I just continue staring up at the cavernous warehouse ceiling.
“I’m kidding. Mostly.” He chuckles. “Seriously, though, are you okay? It’s great to get your heart rate up and challenge yourself, but pushing past your limits isn’t exactly what we’re aiming for here. I’m sorry if I took it too far.”
“Whatever.” I work to slow my breath. “I’m fine.”
“You sure?” His deep voice rumbles my way, and dammit, it does something to me.
I finally turn my head to look at him. His face is so close.
And so… beautiful. Gosh, those eyes. They’re something else.
Green with little flecks of gold in them.
A girl could get lost in eyes like these.
Somehow, his breath is steady and still minty and cool even after that ridiculous workout.
It caresses and soothes my overheated skin.
What the hell am I doing right now?
“What, um, what do you use that space for?” I point at a staircase that leads to what looks like a separate room upstairs. I can’t say I’m all that interested in his answer, but I need to break this tension between us.
Eugene, who’s been relatively quiet until now, chimes in, “Oh, that? That’s where Matt enjoys his daily ‘Seven Minutes in Heaven.’”
“His what?” I squeak.
“It’s not what it sounds like,” Matt says, still lying on the floor beside me, flashing me what I’m now realizing is his trademark grin.
“Gosh, you two look good together.” Keira is hovering above us, still filming. “Shoot. Did I say that out loud?”
“Alright! I’m getting up,” I groan.
“You sure you’re okay?” Matt asks again.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” I prop myself up on my elbows. “I could use some water, though.”
“Of course!” Matt jumps to his feet and grabs a cold bottle of water from a nearby fridge.
Before I realize what’s happening, he’s crouched beside me, holding the water to my lips.
I open my mouth. The cool water pours down my throat.
Over and over again. I should pull away and drink the water myself, like the fully grown woman that I am, but I don’t.
I let him serve me. I close my eyes, tilt my head back farther, and just keep drinking gulp after gulp.
“Damn, Penn,” Keira says. “You look like a lusty sex hamster right now.”
That snaps me out of my post-workout haze real fast. I’m just loopy from exercise endorphins, that’s all. My behavior has nothing to do with the proximity of this man.
“A sex hamster?” I jerk up to a full sitting position. I knock into the water bottle, and it spills the rest of its contents all over me, which, I’m not gonna lie, feels pretty damn refreshing right now. “What are you talking about?”
“No, I hear what she means!” Eugene says. “You know how hamsters and guinea pigs suck on that upside-down water bottle in their cages and—”
“Got it! Yes.” I rise to my feet and look down at the wet spots all over my biker shorts.
“But you look sexy doing it. Hence the reason I called you a sex hamster,” Keira says as if that distinction makes it any better.
“Cool. You get your footage, friend?” I move toward my purse. “Because I think it’s way past time I get going.”
“Don’t rush off, Pennywise,” Matt says.
There’s that nickname again.
I stop in my tracks. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s with the Pennywise thing?”
“What? You don’t like it?”
“I don’t hate it, but I don’t think we know each other well enough to be doling out nicknames just yet. Also, isn’t that the name of the scary clown in Stephen King’s It?”
“Maybe you scare me.”
He says it super casually, but when he locks eyes with me, I feel like there’s some deeper truth to what he’s saying.
“Tim Curry is a freaking genius,” Eugene says, breaking the moment between us. “If you ask me, any comparison to that character is a compliment of the highest order.”
“Ha. I guess I’ll take it, then.”
Matt juts his head in his partner’s direction. “Gene’s a big movie guy.”
I nod. “I’m picking up on that. Keira here is quite the film buff as well. Beyond filming her friend in sweaty, embarrassing situations.” I plead with her with my eyes. “Can we cut now? Please?”
“Yes.” Keira finally stops filming. “Thank you, guys. I believe we’ve gotten all the footage we need.”
“What, uh—what kinds of films do you enjoy?” Eugene asks Keira, and they pull off to the side to geek out on all things cinema.
Interesting.
Matt follows me to the cubbies where the members keep their belongings. “Seriously, can you hang for just a few minutes before you run off? I like to debrief after a first workout.”
“Oh, I don’t like that.” I wince.
“You don’t like what?” he asks.
“That word.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Debrief?”
“Yeah. Every time someone says debrief, I picture that person shimmying out of their panties.”
“Truth be told, I’m more of a boxers kind of guy, but…”
I did not need to know that.
“But what?”
Why am I encouraging this discussion to go further?
“But, I’m not opposed to wearing panties if that’s something you’d—”
“Weird!” Eugene is suddenly beside us. “Dude, you’re so weird. And getting weirder by the day! Penny, I apologize on behalf of my friend.”
“Come on!” Matt says. “Weird is good. Right?”
He locks eyes with me, silent as he waits for my answer.
“Generally, yes.” I sigh. “Weird is good.”
And I mean that. I’ll take weird over typical any day. I thought I had this guy instantly figured out. I thought he was like all the other egotistical fitness dude bros I’ve known. But he keeps surprising me. He is hella weird, that’s for sure. But I’m starting to think that’s not such a bad thing.
I continue, “Keep your panties to yourself, though, okay?”
“As you wish, madam.” Matt winks, then gets back to business. “Alright, so we don’t like the word debrief. Can we have a post-workout discussion? Real quick before you go?”
I take a deep breath and say, “Sure.”
“Great. Have a seat in my office, will you?”
He gestures to his ‘office,’ which is two jump boxes and a ‘table’ made from a stack of tires and a piece of plywood.
I take a seat, and he launches right into what I can only imagine is his usual spiel.
“Alright. I lied to you before. That wasn’t a simple workout we just did. It’s a tough one. Angela to be exact.”
“Who is Angela?” I ask.
“The workout,” he says.
“I’m not following…”
“Oh, sorry. A lot of our Bossfit workouts are named after women,” he explains.
“Like hurricanes?” I ask.
“Exactly. Angela is a real bitch, so don’t be surprised if you experience some DOMS in the next day or two.”
“DOMS?”
“Oh. Sorry again. DOMS stands for Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness.”
“So why don’t you just say that?”
“DOMS is catchier.” He shakes his head at himself.
“I’ll be honest, I’m usually better at on-ramping people for their first session.
Guess I’m a little off my game today.” He clears his throat.
“Anyway, some of my clients report a ring of fire sensation around their upper thighs after the amount of squats you did today. So be ready for that.”
“Can’t wait,” I sass.
“Yeah, it’s fun! Gives you that ‘wow, I really worked out’ feeling. Got a foam roller at home?”
“A foam what?”
“Foam roller. Like this guy here. Here. You can borrow it.”
He grabs a long, thick foam tube thing leaning against the wall.
He places the object on the floor, sits on it, then proceeds to gyrate on top of it.
“You wanna give those thighs a little bit of this.” His pelvis juts forward and back, up and down, over and over as he demonstrates the rolling motion.
“Damn, that feels good,” he moans. “You’ll fucking love it. ”
“I’m sure I will,” I say under my breath.
“What was that?”
“Roll my ass on some foam. Got it!” I grab the roller from him. “Thank you for this. Keira, I’m gonna go if we have everything we need.” I jut my thumb toward the door.
“I’m right behind ya, baby!” Keira smiles as she watches the footage on her camera, clearly pleased with what she captured.
“Yeah, I should probably wrap up anyway,” Matt says. “Gotta rinse off, then head over to school. First big meeting this afternoon to prep for the holiday show.”