Prepared to Fight

by E. J. Shortall

  He placed the beers on the counter and moved in front of me, placing his warm, slightly calloused hands on my shoulders, his thumbs rubbing in soothing circles. “I know it all seems daunting at the moment, but it will all be worth it. Just think of the rewards,” he said tenderly.

  I laughed. My rewards were the very things he was trying to throw out.

  “Just trust me, okay?” His hands began stroking along my upper arms.

  “But if you throw all of that stuff away, I’ll have nothing left to eat. Even you can’t tell me eating nothing is acceptable.” I suddenly felt so very tired. Joining up with a fitness freak like Nathan Oakes was a bad idea for someone like me. I was in over my head with him.

  With a genuine smile, Nathan stepped back, extending a hand. “We’ll go grocery shopping and stock you up with healthy alternatives.”

  At that moment I had no fight in me to argue. In a daze, I left him to it and went back to my room to tidy my clothes. I needed a few minutes alone.

  When I re-emerged a short while later, the kitchen was mostly clear and tidy. I’d entered just in time to stop him from dropping one last thing into the bin.

  “No,” I cried, rushing to him and ripping the bag from his grasp. “I will give up anything but those.” I held the giant bag of jelly beans against my chest.

  Nathan chuckled. “Do you know—”

  My eyes slammed shut. “Don’t. Don’t say it. I don’t care what they do or don’t contain. They are my guilty pleasure and I absolutely will not give them up.”

  “Well, okay then,” he replied with a smile and a shake of his head. “We’ll see.”

  ~CHAPTER SEVEN~

  If you would have told me a month ago that I’d be going to the gym pretty much every day for a solid sixty minute workout, I would have laughed in your face… and then gone to the fridge for a beer.

  As it was, I’d spent nearly every evening of that month at Golden Oakes. If I wasn’t kicking my own butt with Nathan’s workout plan, I could usually be found in one of the studios attempting to look like I knew what I was doing in one of the many classes. It wasn’t easy, and I’d been tempted to throw in the towel on more than one occasion. Each time that happened, Nathan would crawl out of the woodwork and rile me up. He got to me every time, talking about me being a quitter and not having the strength to see this thing through. I would always throw him a witty retort with a shit ton of sass and get straight back to my workout. He would laugh and return to whatever hole he’d crawled out from. It became a mutual understanding between us and I soon found myself eagerly anticipating those exchanges. Although as time went on, he seemed to be away from the gym more and more.

  After emptying my kitchen cupboards of anything worth eating—minus the jelly beans, which I absolutely refused to budge on—Nathan had kept to his promise and taken me grocery shopping. That had been a rather bizarre event. Rocking up to my nearest supermarket in his graphite grey Porsche Cayenne had been weird enough. But when he literally tugged me down each aisle, throwing things in the trolley, all I got to do was look on in bemusement. What he had failed to realise was that there was a reason for my stash of convenience foods. I couldn’t cook. What point was there in preparing a lavish meal for one? It was so much easier throwing a pizza in the oven or nuking a ready meal in the microwave. It was simple, quick, delicious and left me hardly any cleaning up to do. It was also apparently really bad for me.

  ‘You carry on eating that shit,” Nathan had said when I’d tried to sneak a double pepperoni pizza into the trolley, ‘and you’ll never truly change. As soon as you hit a hurdle, the old ways will come back. You have to break this cycle, Olivia.’ And regardless of the thoughts that went through my head at the time, it must have worked because I did find myself being much more conscious about what I was putting into my mouth. It was like he’d hypnotized me at some point in our blossoming friendship. The words ‘bacon double cheeseburger’—or similar—soon became triggers and in my mind I would see Nathan’s face looking at me with determined tenderness. His voice would be soft and encouraging as he reminded me I needed to focus on my health.

  I was still a liability in the kitchen. Nothing short of going back to college to study food tech would help me with that. Most of the foods Nathan had bought me—yes bought, he wouldn’t let me pay, saying he’d left my kitchen empty so it was only fair he restocked for me—had gone in the freezer. I didn’t have a clue what to do with it all, so I decided to store it and eat elsewhere. It was easier than burning my flat down trying to cook something edible. I ended up spending far too much money—money I didn’t really have—buying meals from the Golden Oakes café each evening.

  All that time at the gym inevitably meant I also got to know Cassie more. On the evenings that Nathan wasn’t there to watch over me, she would join me and we’d work out together—of course her sessions were much tougher than mine. She was a good laugh and kept me focused. I learned a lot from her. I felt that in time we could become really good friends. With Adam still being weird I felt I needed a friend more than ever.

  ‘Three… two… one, and you’re done,’ I said to myself, dropping my arms from the cool down stretch I’d had them in. It was Friday night, and I’d just completed another training session in which I’d managed longer on the treadmill, increased the weight on the machines and didn’t feel like I would pass out on the cross trainer. I felt fantastic. The hard work was definitely starting to pay off. I could already see improvement in my fitness levels.

  “Are you busy tonight?”

  I looked over my shoulder. “Why if it isn’t the Scarlett Pimpernel. To what do I owe the pleasure this evening?”

  “Cut the crap, Olivia. Are you busy tonight?”

  Twisting around so I could see him properly, I came face to chest with Nathan. My voice dripping in sarcasm, I said, “Nice to see you, Nathan. Long-time no see. How are you doing?” I hadn’t seen or heard from him all week, and it had pissed me off more than I cared to admit. Every day I would walk in with eager anticipation that today I’d get to see him, talk to him. If was really lucky, maybe I’d get to feel his hands on me as he helped me correct my posture when I was pushing weights.

  “I’ve been busy,” he said, grabbing my elbow and pulling me towards the wall and out of the way of some girls heading towards the changing rooms. A relieved smile tugged at my lips when he ignored their blatant attempts at attracting his attention and kept his steely gaze on mine. “So, are you doing anything now?”

  I swatted his arm away then immediately missed its warmth when it was gone. “No. I’m going home to curl up on my couch with a book.”

  I began walking away. “I want you to come home with me.”

  My eyes widened and my legs refused to move another step. “What?”

  Moving to my side, Nathan placed his fingers under my chin and lifted so I had to look at him, his eyes searching mine with an sense of hope. “Liv, I would like you to come home with me so I can cook for you?”

  “But…”

  His lips pulled into a cautious grin. “As grateful as I am for you keeping the gym’s café afloat, you eating there every day gives me the impression you might need a few culinary tips so you can use what you have at home. Am I wrong?”

  I wondered how he knew I’d been eating there. “I want you to come home with me so I can cook you a proper meal and give you a few tips about preparing healthy meals.” Was he serious?

  I tried protesting, I really did. But when he fired back an argument for every excuse I made, it became apparent he wasn’t going to accept no for an answer. I was also kind of intrigued about where he might live and what his place would be like. Did he live in the flamboyant, city bachelor pad I imagined him to have? Or was his home a more sedate, suburban affair? Did he even live alone? What if he had a girlfriend? I inwardly chastised myself for even caring. But I couldn’t deny that the thought of some lucky bitch having the monopoly on his time stung—hard. Still, I’d only caught a glimpse of Nath
an the business man at my office. The Nathan I knew only marginally more, the personal trainer, was focused, to the point and sometimes scary. But all of that was only a small part of the whole. Deep down I knew there were so many more layers to him. He had secrets, I was sure of it and for some reason I wanted to uncover them all.

  Before I could think on it anymore, I agreed to his offer. With a huge smile on my face, I tugged on the changing room door. “Just so you know, Mr. Oakes,” I said over my shoulder, “I will be expecting haute couture dining from you this evening.” And I disappeared inside.

  ***

  Weirder and weirder. That’s what my world was becoming. I’d somehow managed to walk through a time-space continuum, black hole thing and was living a strange parallel life. It was the only logical explanation, because nothing around me felt real anymore.

  Staring out the window of Nathan’s car, the buzz of London passed by in a blur. I’d assumed that he lived close to the gym, or even near the headquarters for GO. But we were driving into the city, into the buzz of central London. The roads became congested, more pedestrians lined the pathways and there was an undeniable energy in the air.

  “Where is it you live, exactly?” I asked, turning in my seat to face Nathan. He glanced over quickly before refocusing on the road ahead.

  “I have a new apartment in Bayswater.” He flicked the indicator and smoothly made a right turn into a road of Edwardian houses. That led to a row of Victorian houses. This was why I loved London so much—the mix of old and new blending together seamlessly. Architecture of different eras mingled so perfectly, creating a unique and interesting backdrop at every turn. As we drove along the road, I felt my excitement growing. I wondered what Nathan’s place was like. Was his apartment a Victorian conversion that he’d retained all the classic fixtures in? Or had he opted to take a place in one of the few, newer built blocks that crept in every so often? My curiosity was answered a minute or so later when he rounded a corner and indicated before turning onto a ramp that would take us into an underground car park below a newly built, mostly glass, multi-storey block.

  Under the bright fluorescent lights of the car park, Nathan drove around with confidence and ease, seeming comfortable and in control. He pulled the car into an empty space and killed the engine. I sat there staring forward feeling suddenly awkward. Nathan had hardly spoken to me on the drive over, and suddenly I was acutely aware that I was going to be walking into his personal space.

  When he opened his car door, I followed. Taking a discreet look around the other vehicles parked nearby, I determined that the people who lived there must have money. All the cars filling the nearby spaces were expensive looking, with everything from big SUV’s like Nathan’s, to small sporty things. There was also a fancy looking superbike parked next to the Cayenne. I’d never been on the back of a motorbike before, but the thought of sitting behind someone, clutching hold of them tight, as they sped down quiet country roads, or weaved in and out of busy traffic, gave me a thrill.

  “Do you like bikes?” Nathan asked, moving to stand beside me.

  “I’ve never been on one,” I admitted. Placing a hand to my lower back, he gestured towards a bank of elevators. “It’s on my bucket list, though.”

  He smiled down at me. “We’ll have to see what we can do for you then, won’t we? I would hate for you to not achieve all your dreams and goals, JB.” Just then the lift door opened and he encouraged me in with a little pressure on my back.

  “JB?” I asked, turning to face him when the elevator began ascending.

  He smirked. “Hmmm.”

  “What the hell is JB? Is that a pet name? Because I have to tell you now, I don’t do the pet name thing. Nu uh.” I shook my head almost violently. “And have you forgotten my name already? Because JB is nowhere near OB if you’re going for my initials.”

  His grin widened. “Yes, it’s a pet name, and I will be using it. No, it’s not your initials. Well, not your real ones anyway,” he said cryptically.

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  The elevator stopped on the eleventh floor and the doors opened. Nathan placed an arm around my shoulder and began walking us out. “All in good time, JB, all in good time.”

  ***

  “So, what amazing culinary secrets are you going to share with me tonight then?” I asked. I was perched on a stool on the living room side of his kitchen island, watching him curiously. He stood on the other side, looking comfortable resting against a counter. His kitchen was bright and modern with white walls, white gloss and frosted glass cupboards, granite worktops, stainless steel appliances and rustic wooden flooring. The kitchen opened out into an open-plan living and dining room that had floor to ceiling windows on two walls offering a perfect view over London.

  He shot me a grin that was so unlike him it stole my breath. “None actually. I just want you to sit back, relax and enjoy a home cooked meal. I want to do this for you. I’m sure you’re sick of the café food by now.” Turning his back on me, he opened the tall, built in fridge and started rummaging.

  My brows crinkled as strange, conflicting thoughts raced around my mind. Choosing to ignore my hammering heart at the fact that this could easily be seen as a date, I asked, “How did you know I’ve been eating at the gym anyway? I’ve hardly seen you there this week.”

  A mountain of meat and various vegetables and herbs appeared in front of me. “That doesn’t mean I haven’t been around. I’ve just been really busy with a lot going on at the moment. But I see you, Olivia. At first, I wondered why you weren’t using the food we’d picked up.” He swiped up the carrots, courgettes and aubergines and took them to the sink to wash. “Then I thought even you wouldn’t be so stubborn as to let food go to waste. Finally I came to the conclusion that maybe you’d been living on that crap before because it was easy. You can’t cook.” It wasn’t a question. He knew. He placed the washed vegetables down on a chopping board and began to chop them.

  “Of course I can bloody cook,” I replied defensively.

  He shot me a look, and then returned his attention to chopping. “So, anyway, I figured if I cooked you something nice, it might just help you out a little bit. You know, give you an idea on what’s healthy and how to go about cooking it.”

  My eyes rolled. I was sure it would but I wasn’t going to admit that to him. “Don’t you think you’re taking this whole helping the hopeless charade a little too far?” I watched, mesmerized, transfixed as he sliced through the carrots with surprising ease and grace. His hands, strong and powerful, and dusted with a smattering of dark hair and redness covering his knuckles, flexed with each fluid motion.

  His movements stopped abruptly, causing me to drag my gaze upward. He was watching me knowingly, those all-seeing, stormy eyes of his piercing me with their sharpness. “There is nothing fake about my willingness to help you, Olivia. The sooner you accept that the better.”

  “I just… I don’t get it okay? None of this makes any sense to me, and I’m struggling with that. I’m an independent gal, Nathan. I do what I want, when I want, because I want. Not because someone else wants or tells me to.”

  “If you look back, I think you’ll find everything you’ve done so far has been of your own choosing.”

  My brows lifted and I coughed a laugh, thinking back to his rather rude clearing out of my kitchen. “Um, my kitchen?”

  “Okay, maybe I was a little out of line with the food thing—”

  “A little?”

  “But I’d seen what you’d left out on the counter,” he continued, as if I hadn’t spoken. “It made me curious about what other unhealthy things you might be hoarding. I just went through and got rid of the worst of it.”

  “You left me with nothing!” I shrieked.

  “Wrong. I just moved things around a bit. Tell me, have you actually been through all your cabinets since my visit?”

  “Other than those you put the new stuff in, no.” My head dropped in embarrassment. I felt stupid. I
’d just assumed he’d been a totally arrogant, dictatorial arse and had literally thrown everything away that had any reasonable calorie content to it.

  “It’s all about moderation. I’m not saying you can’t have those items you love, but you need to learn that they are occasional luxuries, not every day indulgences. We can’t always have what we’d like, Liv. Despite how much we really want them.” His voice carried a hint of regret, and I found myself trying to gauge his thoughts. Was there a double meaning to his statement? As usual, he was a closed book, concentrating on his task.

  I left Nathan chopping veg and preparing meat so I could take a look around his living room. I needed a moment away. Whenever I was around him, I felt flustered, frustrated and more than a little hot around the collar. I knew my feelings for him were growing beyond mere attraction and that scared me. Olivia Buchanan didn’t usually do relationships. I wasn’t interested in giving up my careers goals and dreams only to live someone else’s. It wasn’t who I was. Yet I stupidly found myself constantly wanting to impress Nathan, craving that little bit of praise or intimate attention he would occasionally offer.

  “Can I use your bathroom?” I shouted, whilst looking around his fairly minimalist living room. I’d not known what to expect from his home, but the distinct lack of anything personal led me to believe he didn’t spend much time here. The place seemed cold and unloved, not a happy place to retreat to after a long day at the gym. I felt a rush of relief sweep through me when I realised there were no indications of anything female being there either. It would appear he lived alone.

  “Down the hall, first door on the left.”

  ***

  Nathan Oakes was a mystery. There was no getting away from it. Standing at the basin in his bathroom, I noted the room was just as bare and cold looking as his living room. Were all the rooms like this? My flat might not have been the biggest, or in the nicest of areas, but it was home. I’d decorated and furnished it with warm, welcoming colours and didn’t give a shit about something being out of its place. It was my sanctuary, not a catalogue show home like Nathan’s place felt.