by Sara Mack
I look over her head. She’s pointing to the hallway on the opposite side of the apartment.
“No one told me there was a designated toilet.” My expression twists. “Gwen said ‘down the hall’ and I picked one.”
My brother comes up behind Jules. He hands her a cup, wraps his arms around her waist, and sets his chin on her shoulder. He looks at me. “Having fun?”
“If you forget about tripping in front of the host and venturing into prohibited territory, then yes,” I say.
The music slows down and Juliana’s eyes get that ‘I’m-buzzed-and-I-want-to-rub-up-on-my-boyfriend’ look. She turns around in Pete’s arms and I decide I don’t need to watch them get cozy. More party goers have the same idea as the two of them, so it’s easy to find a place to sit. I wander over to an empty loveseat to wait out Ed Sheeran’s “Kiss Me”. As the song plays I can’t stop my fingers from strumming invisible strings. I love Ed. Hearing him makes me itch to pick up my guitar and play.
A pair of legs rounds the couch and I look up as Latson sits down. He flashes a sexy smile in my direction and my heart stutters.
Damn it. The last thing I need is to be attracted to this guy.
He settles against the cushions all confident-like and I cross my arms. He looks at me and I look at him until I raise an eyebrow in question.
“You don’t dance to slow songs?” he asks.
“Only with the right person,” I respond.
“And where is he?”
I decide to mess with him. “How do you know he isn’t a she?”
Latson smiles and shakes his head. “Is he a she?”
I shrug, trying to be nonchalant. “Maybe they should be. Good men are hard to find.”
Ain’t that the truth.
Latson’s eyes light up like he wants to say something smart, but he doesn’t. Instead, his gaze darts to the hallway I just explored. “Were you looking for one earlier? A good man, I mean.”
He saw me? I don’t want him to think I spy on people like he does. “I got lost, I swear. Gwen gives bad directions.”
He laughs, then leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. This closes the distance between us and his leg ends up pressed against mine. He shoots me another lethal smile. “Well, if you ever want a private tour let me know.”
My mouth tries to fall open, but I catch it. I’m sure he’s used this line on women before and I’m sure it’s worked. Especially if he looked at their lips the way he looking at mine.
Before I can think of a witty comeback, a girl wearing a tiny, form-fitting mini dress throws her body in his lap. I lean back as she winds her arms around his neck.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she coos. “Work ran over.”
I take in her unnatural cranberry red hair and six-inch high stilettos. Hmmm. Where does she work?
“Heidi.” Latson adjusts her weight on his legs. “This is Jen.” He nods toward me. “Jen, Heidi.”
I assume Pete told him my name. I like the way it sounds when he says it, but I don’t like that he used it to introduce me to his girlfriend. He was just hitting on me. Are all the men I meet cheating pigs?
Heidi dismisses me with a flip of her hair and turns her attention back to her man. She whispers in his ear, and I roll my eyes and push myself off the couch. I take a few steps before Latson says, “Wait.”
I turn to see him slide Heidi off his lap. She looks pissed. He walks over to stand in front of me. “Where are you going?”
“Away,” I say.
“Why?”
“Because I just got rid of a cheater.” I take another step. “And I don’t plan on getting mixed up with another one.”
~~~~
The following afternoon I find myself thinking about something I never considered before.
How to hurt Juliana.
Option number one: throat punch her. From the arc trainer next to mine, she’s just the right height for my fist.
Option number two: pull the cord to her ear buds. When they fall, they might tangle around her feet and slow her down.
Option number three –
“You’re doing great!”
Jules gives me an enthusiastic thumbs up and I give her a weak smile in return. I can’t believe I let her talk me into going to the gym. I’ve never worked out before and trying to keep up with her pace feels like torture. When she introduced me to the arc trainer, she said the machine was great for cardio. She said nothing about the possibility of a having a stroke. I never run, and this machine is making me. Sweat runs down my forehead and down my back; hell, it even runs between my boobs. I glance down at the workout top Juliana made me borrow and frown at the growing stain. How is anything getting down there? The girls are pushed together so tight they look like I’ve had plastic surgery.
Finally the machine beeps, letting me know it’s time to cool down after forty-five minutes of insanity. I look at Juliana. She fans herself and slows her steps. I slow down too, but my hands remain glued to the machine. They’re sealed to the handles with a layer of sweat. I can’t let go and keep moving. I’ll lose my balance for sure.
Once we’re finished I step off the arc on to wobbly legs. I grab my water bottle and chug. Juliana takes out her ear buds. “How do you feel?”
I swallow and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “Like road kill.”
“Excellent!” Juliana gives me an energetic smile instead of sympathy. “Let’s give your legs a rest and work on arms.”
Oooo. Let’s.
We walk over to the free weights, which happen to be stacked in front of floor to ceiling mirrors. Jules reaches for the five pound weights and hands them to me. Then, she grabs the ten pound weights for herself.
“Okay. Follow along in the mirror.”
I do as I’m told and the whole time I question why. This hurts. As my biceps start to quiver, I assess my situation. I know Jules wants a workout buddy, but I’m not sure I’m the best girl for the job. Sure, there’s a little extra junk in the trunk I could stand to lose. But I’m not a big fan of sweat. Or fatigue.
Or the cramp forming in my side.
I’m formulating a plan to break the news to Juliana when a guy walks up and selects a set of heavier weights. He steps back and places them on the ground, then reaches behind his head to stretch. The bottom of his t-shirt rises, revealing the waistline of his gym shorts and that deep V you read about in romance novels.
I miss a step following Jules. Holy abs, Batman. I start to reconsider my stance on working out.
By the time we return our weights to the rack, thirty minutes have passed. We’ve been at the gym for almost two hours; it has to be time to leave. Excited by the idea of a hot shower, I consider skipping to the locker room despite feeling tired. After I drain my water bottle, I ask, “Is it time to go?”
“Almost.” Juliana starts to walk away. “There’s another machine I want you to try.”
Argh! “Are you trying to kill me?”
She laughs. “No. It’s one of my favorite machines and it’s rare to find it unoccupied. Let’s go before someone claims it.”
Her ponytail bobs as she power walks to a piece of equipment in the corner. When we reach it I read the name: Hammer Strength Leg Press. To me, it resembles something out of the middle ages.
“This one is great for your quads and glutes,” she says. “You sit here.” She plants her ass in the seat. “Then, lean back.”
Juliana looks like she’s lying on the ground in a chair that’s been tipped over. She raises her legs in the air. “You place your feet here,” she sets her shoes against a rectangular black plate in front of her, “and push.”
My hands land on my hips. “You look like you’re at the gynecologist.”
“Ha!” She laughs before unlocking the machine and completing two sets of ten reps. When she finishes, she pauses to breathe before doing more.
“Your turn,” she says and slides out of the seat.
Feeling wary, I trade places with her.
I mimic Juliana, and when I set my feet against the plate, my knees are a centimeter from my chest. I’m crunched into a ball. I grab hold of the handles to unlock the machine like she did, and the weight falls against me. I straighten my legs to push it back up.
Holy hell this is heavy.
“Good!” Jules encourages me. “Try to do ten.”
I’m on number three when she looks up and gets sidetracked. “Oh, there’s Carly from the salon. I need to see if she can switch shifts with me. I’ll be right back.”
Yes! There’s no way I’m doing ten leg presses. Even though I finished with the arc a while ago, my legs still feel like Jell-O. I finish the fourth press, then let my knees fall against my chest to rest. This is crazy. I look up and notice the weight of the plate is written next to my toe. One hundred and ninety pounds. No wonder I can’t do this!
After I breathe for a couple of minutes, I push against the plate to lift it so I can get out of the machine. It barely moves.
Oh no.
I try again, but my legs are so wasted I don’t have the strength. Not even enough to push the weight an inch higher so I can lock it into place and crawl out. I wait a second and try again. Nothing happens, except my legs shake.
This is not happening.
I’m stuck.
I’m stuck in a Hammer Strength leg press!
I lay my head back and close my eyes. Okay. It’s not a big deal. Juliana will be back in a minute and she’ll help me. I just have to keep the weight from completely crushing my legs into my body. I can do this.
I can do this.
I can do this.
The weight grows heavier against my feet, and my thighs press uncomfortably against my ribs.
I can’t do this!
My heart starts to pound. I will be the first person to be crushed to death in a leg press. I know it. It will make headlines.
“Looks like you could use some help.”
Awww, hell. I know that voice.
I open one eye to find Latson standing over me. “What makes you think so?” I wheeze.
“Your face is beet red.”
Shit.
Before I can ask, he steps forward and lifts the weight off of my feet. I lock the handles into place and roll out on to the ground. I don’t care that the floor of the gym is infested with germs. I don’t care that I’m lying on my side in too tight workout clothes in front of a hot guy. All I care about is the return of circulation to my legs.
Latson crouches down beside me. “Is it that bad? How long were you in there?”
I should lie and say an hour. “Only a few minutes.”
He chuckles. “It’s a good thing I found you.”
“Are you stalking me?”
He smirks. “I joined this gym two years ago. No.”
I decide to sit up and he helps me by pulling my wrist. Once I’m on my butt, I look at him. He’s wearing navy blue athletic shorts and another plain white t-shirt. I grab the material with two fingers and pull. “Don’t you own any other clothes?”
“What do you mean?”
“Every time I see you you’re wearing a plain white tee.”
He gives me the half smile with the dimple. “Sounds like you’re the one stalking me.”
I fight the blush rising in my cheeks. “Pfffft. In your dreams.”
He tries to help me stand, but I manage on my own. As I brush my legs to get rid of any dirt, he asks, “Are you finished with your work out?”
I toss an irritated look at the machine that tried to suffocate me. “I’d say so.”
“That’s too bad. I could spot you.” He smiles and takes a step. “You know, teach you to exercise the right way.”
He looks casual, but his tone insinuates he’s not talking about exercise. “I don’t think Heidi would appreciate the lesson,” I say.
Juliana comes up behind me. “How was it?” Then, she notices my company. “Ohhh. Hey, Latson.”
“Hey.” He crosses his arms. “Just so you know, I saved your friend from death.”
“What?” She looks at me.
He snickers. “I’ll let her explain. I gotta run. I need to get this work out in before the bar opens.”
He waves and walks away as Juliana pins me with a stare. “What happened?”
I sigh. Of course he would mention my predicament. “Let’s just say I need to work up to your level, Jules.”
We start to make our way to the locker room when Juliana bumps my arm. “Look over there,” she whispers.
“At what?”
“Latson.”
Um, okay. My eyes sweep the gym floor when I spot him standing in front of the same mirrors Juliana and I used earlier. His back is to us as he balances a weight bar across his shoulders and squats. I can’t deny it’s a nice view. Muscular arms, tapered waist. Defined legs.
“Do you see it?” she asks.
“See what?”
“His ass.”
My mouth falls open. “Jules!”
“I told you you could bounce a quarter off it.”
I can’t resist and sneak another peek. He bends at the knees again, causing his shorts to hug his body.
Yeah. You could probably bounce a lot more than a quarter off that.
Just then, his eyes find my reflection in the mirror. He winks to let me know I’ve been caught. I’m tempted to wink back, but I stop myself. He’s involved with Heidi. Instead, I stand there like an idiot and stare.
Great. In addition to stumbling and getting stuck in a leg press, I’ve embarrassed myself in front of him yet again.
“Let’s go,” I grumble and head toward the locker room.
Chapter Six
“Thank you, Tricia. I’ll wait for your call.”
I hang up with my insurance agent and look out over the blue water of Lake Michigan. I watch it lap the shore for a few moments before wiggling my feet and burying them further into the sand. The sun has decided to shine and turn this spring day into an anomaly. The temperature hovers near seventy-five degrees, which is high for this time of year. The city is taking advantage of the warm weather, and I’m one of hundreds on this beach. I thought it would be a good idea to get out of Pete’s apartment, explore a bit, and recover from my gym experience.
I also thought it would be a good idea to spend some time alone. I know I’ve only been here two days, but if I’m going to relax and “do me,” I should start sooner rather than later. I’m not sure how long I’ll be staying in Chicago without obligations.
My eyes scan the people around me and they land on a young mother, or maybe she’s a babysitter, with a toddler to my left. They’re wearing jeans, but building sand castles anyway. Farther down the shore a few high school kids toss a football and, past them, a couple stands near the water’s edge. They grab my attention.
He’s wearing a suit. She’s wearing denim capris and flip flops. She gestures with her hands and he reaches out, catching them to stop her. He studies her face, says something, then leans forward and, I assume, whispers in her ear. I watch her take a step back with wide eyes. It doesn’t appear things are going well.
A seagull swoops low over the water and distracts me for a second. I glance at the bird, then back to the couple. They stare at one another. The man looks tired and the woman shakes her head. Then, she wraps her arms around her waist and walks away. She heads in my direction, and I watch the man close his eyes before opening them slowly. I expect him to call her back, or run to her to make things right. Neither happens. When she’s steps away from me, he turns and leaves without saying a word.
I feel awful for her. I know I’m jumping to conclusions, but, given my most recent dating experience, I feel like none of this is her fault. As she passes in front of me I ask, “Are you okay?”
She looks surprised I noticed her and stops walking. “My fairytale just ended,” she says.
Her choice of words strikes me. I can sympathize. Before I tell her so, she brushes tears from her cheeks and continues on her way. I’
m sure she doesn’t want to discuss her life with a stranger.
My fairytale just ended.
I turn her statement over in my mind. Unfortunately, I know that feeling all too well. The feeling that something is meant to be, only it turns out the opposite is true. An image of my ex Kyle appears in my thoughts, and I pull my knees to my chest.
As much as I don’t want to admit it, I truly thought he was the one.
For three years Kyle and I lived together in his cute little two bedroom ranch. It was my home for a long time, and I made the mistake of assuming it would be forever. I think it surprised him just as much as it surprised me when I walked out. I wanted a deeper commitment. A ring. When I brought up the subject he said he wasn’t ready to take that step. I didn’t understand why and I let my emotions get the best of me. Only after meeting Addison did everything become clear. As much as I wanted his heart, it never belonged to me.
Suddenly, inspiration hits. I open the notes app on my phone and start typing.
The sounds around me fade as a song forms in my mind. It comes to me quickly, faster than any song I’ve written before. Even the one I wrote for Kevin’s wedding took longer than this. Probably because it was his gift and I wanted it to be perfect. Regardless, things can’t always be perfect and this song won’t be, but when I finish the lyrics, I fall in love with what I’ve created.
Standing, I wipe the sand from jeans and find my shoes. I walk away from the beach and toward the sidewalk.
Thank you, mystery couple, I think. I can’t wait to get to my guitar.
~~~~
“Heads up!”
A black t-shirt smacks me in the face.
“Hey!” I look at my brother. “What was that for?”
“We’re short bartenders and I need your help.”
“At work?” My face twists as I lean over to snag the shirt off the floor. “Why me?”
“Because you’re great at it and I know you’d like some extra cash. Plus, it’s Saturday. I don’t want to leave you all alone.”
“I’ll survive,” I say, although the idea of working appeals to me. More money has left my pocket than I anticipated. Juliana and I went shopping on Michigan Avenue the other day. It’s hard to resist new clothes when someone gushes about how cute they look, especially when the outfit matches the new boots you just bought from Saks.