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The Shape of You

Page 7

by Georgia Beers

“You mean the fire that’s burning through my muscles like lava? I should feel that?”

  “Exactly that.”

  “Then I’m good.”

  Rebecca chuckled, then seemed to grow serious. “Listen, Spencer.” She paused, as if gathering her thoughts, and Spencer was glad to have the weight in her hand, something to concentrate on rather than feeling awkward. “I’m really glad you came back. Again, I apologize for last week, and I appreciate you giving me another chance.”

  Spencer nodded, unsure of what words to say. She wanted to ask what she’d done to cause Rebecca’s initial dislike of her, but it didn’t seem like the time or place. Instead, she offered a friendly smile, and that seemed to alleviate any discomfort either of them felt.

  When Spencer finished the first set, Rebecca said, “Rest for one minute, then do another set. Both arms. Rest for one minute, then do a third. I’ll be back by then.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Spencer watched Rebecca walk back toward where Brittany was pulling on the wall straps and realized she was seeing her in a new light. It was kind of amazing how easily that had happened. Just from Rebecca being nice, friendly instead of standoffish and cold. Today, she wore tight nylon workout pants and a light blue racer-back tank that was also fitted. It showed off her body nicely, and for the first time, Spencer found herself looking. Really looking. Rebecca was trim and fit, unsurprisingly. But she was also feminine. She had curves. Hips and breasts and a round ass that Spencer had trouble pulling her gaze from, wondered what it would feel like to have it in her hands…

  Okay. Enough of that. Marti. Marti. Marti.

  She shook her head and turned her focus back to the exercise at hand, doing her best to keep her movements slow, to concentrate on her form, which Rebecca had told them endlessly today was very important.

  Rebecca returned as Spencer started her third set. After three reps, her arm started to quake.

  “It’s okay to rest,” Rebecca told her, and Spencer immediately set the weight down in relief. “Just don’t wait too long. Give yourself a few seconds, then get back to it. You can rest as many times as you need to, just finish the reps. You’ll be surprised how quickly you improve.”

  “Will I? That seems to be a tall order right now.” Spencer picked the weight back up, did three more reps before dropping it again.

  “I promise. If you do the work, we’re gonna get you results.” Her smile was reassuring. “Finish up, and meet us over in the corner.”

  This time when she walked away, Spencer forced herself not to watch.

  “What happened to her?” Lucy whispered in the locker room ten minutes later. “Was she body snatched by aliens? Visited by three ghosts?”

  Spencer shook her head. “I have no idea.” She popped her lock open, then sat down to take off her Nikes and sweaty socks. “But I like it. It’s nice.” That was the truth.

  “Me, too. I hope it’s not a fluke of some kind.”

  “Yeah.”

  Spencer was well aware that this might, in fact, be just that: a fluke. Maybe Rebecca had been in a great mood today, and that was the only reason she’d been as nice as she had. But her apology—her second apology—told Spencer that maybe she really had had a change of heart. Either way, Spencer would take it. It had been a good workout, and for the first time since the class had begun, Spencer started to think about what it would be like to be in better shape. More importantly, how would it feel?

  “What are you up to tonight?” Lucy asked, tugging her back to the present. “Anything fun?”

  “On a Monday? Doubtful. I’m going over to Marti’s, I think.”

  “Ethan likes to go out on Mondays. Monday Misadventures, he calls it. It’s a thing he has.” Lucy giggled. “It sounds silly, but I love it. One time, we went bowling. Another, to a new ice cream place. Last week, it was a wine bar. He’s always got a new place picked out, and I never know what it is until we get there.”

  “I don’t think that sounds silly at all,” Spencer said. “I think it sounds amazing.” Marti would never do something like that. She was routine, almost rigid. Spencer predicted she’d get to Marti’s, Marti would come home from work some time around eight. Maybe later. Spencer would have eaten dinner alone. They’d chat about work, maybe a few other things, then they’d go to bed. Predictable. They had become so very predictable.

  “I can’t wait to see what tonight is.” Lucy’s smile was wide, her excitement palpable.

  “I expect a full report,” Spencer called as Lucy shouldered her bag and headed out of the locker room. With a sigh, she went back to her own stuff. Yeah, envy was big right now, sitting on her shoulders like some sort of raven.

  She didn’t like feeling that way.

  Doing her best to shake it off, she drove to Marti’s. As expected, nobody was home, so she went in and scoped out the contents of the fridge before texting Marti.

  ETA on coming home?

  She set the phone on the counter, pulled out a jar of sauce and a box of pasta.

  “But first, vino,” she said, to the empty kitchen.

  Her first sip of a lovely Gewurztraminer was in her mouth when her phone dinged, indicating a text.

  Probably not until late. Big case. Ordered some Chinese.

  Spencer’s wave of disappointment was short-lived, instantly replaced by happy anticipation of a night alone. That had been happening more and more lately, and she’d been trying to ignore it. Shouldn’t she be excited for her partner—no, her fiancée—to come home? Shouldn’t she look forward to spending time with her rather than be happy to be alone?

  The pasta and jar of sauce tucked back in the cupboard, Spencer pulled eggs out of the fridge instead. As she was beating a couple with a fork, thoughts flew around her head, fast and furious.

  She loved Marti. Didn’t she? They’d been together for nearly two years. They knew each other well. Rather, Spencer knew Marti well. If they were forced to play The Newlywed Game and were asked questions about each other, Spencer would beat Marti easily. That was only because Marti wasn’t good with detail and she wasn’t a romantic at heart. Not like Spencer, who could lose an entire weekend watching the Hallmark Channel’s cheesy romance movies and loving every second of it. Marti was pragmatic. Logical. And her job as an attorney had taught her to tuck her own emotions into a box and leave them at the door. Depositions and trials were no place for feelings, she liked to say.

  Did she wish Marti had a tiny bit of a romantic side? Of course. But that just wasn’t her and that was okay. Spencer gave a firm nod as she scrambled eggs in a frying pan, then sprinkled some grated cheddar onto them.

  I could do a lot worse than Marti. I’m lucky to have her.

  She took a large gulp of her wine and tried not to wonder who she was hoping to convince.

  * * *

  Well. That was good. Sort of.

  Rebecca stowed her things in her own locker in the staff locker room—a separate, secure room away from the public locker room—before heading for the showers. It felt better, anyway. It was much more pleasant to be nice to Spencer Thompson, to treat her like any other client rather than let her own judgments seep in. There was a thing she hadn’t counted on, though: liking Spencer a bit too much.

  What was it about her anyway?

  She cranked the water as hot as she could get it and let it beat a rhythm against her shoulders, trying her best to focus on all the work she’d done today, all the bending and stretching with clients, as well as her own workout she’d snuck in after lunch. But the more she tried not to think about Spencer, the more she thought about Spencer.

  She drew people. Rebecca could see that. People liked Spencer immediately. Lucy adored her. Even the other three (that Rebecca had dubbed “the clique”) seemed to be warming to her little by little. There was something about Spencer that made people feel relaxed with her. Comfortable. Rebecca was no exception.

  She was kind. Even when she’d told Rebecca she was quitting last Friday, she’d been almost…professional abo
ut it. She was angry, that had been obvious, but she’d said her piece and walked away. No raised voices. No name-calling. No swearing.

  That last thought made Rebecca chuckle beneath the spray of water. What had Spencer said? Sugar and spice? Yeah, Rebecca was going to get an F-bomb out of her if it was the last thing she did. Then her mind began to wander to the physical attributes of Spencer Thompson. And that was dangerous.

  Spencer was in much better shape than she gave herself credit for. She was a bit…soft, yes. Untoned, as most people were. But she had great potential. And her blue eyes were kind. Inviting. She had lovely hands. Feminine and pretty. Her wavy hair was beautiful, just waiting for fingers to dig in—

  “Stop it!” Rebecca hissed the command at herself, eyes squeezed shut, fists balled tightly until her nails left red crescents in her palms.

  Spencer was engaged.

  She was getting married in a few months.

  She was so off-limits. You couldn’t get much more off-limits than Spencer Thompson was. Rebecca needed to remember that and derail this train of thought completely. Right now. Before it became a problem. Well, a bigger problem. She made a mental note to back off again, just a little, when it came to Spencer. She didn’t like that idea, but at this point, the way her thoughts were going, it was necessary.

  Once she’d toweled off and dressed, Rebecca gathered her things and headed upstairs. It had become quiet, as it was getting late and the gym closed shortly. She waved to the college-age kid behind the desk, who was most likely doing an internship for his sports medicine degree, and drove herself home, determined.

  When she had fed Veruca Salt, who meowed her dissatisfaction over eating at this late hour—even though she ate around this very time more often than not—Rebecca settled onto her couch, clicked on the TV to Lifetime, and pulled her computer onto her lap. She didn’t tell a lot of people that she was a Lifetime movie addict, but she was. She loved them, their lame plots, their ultra-cheesy titles. And once in a while, she’d hit pay dirt and stumble across a really good one. Mostly, she had it on for background noise. Being somebody who worked in a gym for anywhere from seven to fourteen or fifteen hours a day, she was used to the constant hum of activity. Being in her house alone with no sound weirded her out a little bit.

  Rebecca set the remote down and waited for Veruca Salt to make herself comfortable alongside her, then she signed on to one of the dating sites. Not bothering to look at her new matches, she scrolled and clicked until she found the friendly looking brown-haired girl whose name was Beth. She had two other photos, which Rebecca checked out, then read her profile again. She was into yoga, hiking, rowing (so active, which earned her points). She was a nurse and thirty-seven, two years older than Rebecca.

  “Okay, Ruke, here goes nothing.”

  This was good.

  This was a surefire way to yank her thoughts back to where they were supposed to be instead of where they’d cause nothing but trouble.

  This was good.

  Chapter Seven

  “You know,” Marti said as she poured them each a cup of coffee on Wednesday morning, “you’ve barely packed anything. I mean, I kind of thought you’d be in by now. Or at least moving some stuff over.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, as if she was working very hard to make sure it didn’t seem like this was a subject that bothered her.

  Spencer knew better.

  “I know. I’ll get there. Just been really busy with work and the gym and stuff.” It was a lame excuse. Just as lame as it had been the first time she’d used it. Marti was right; Spencer had barely packed a thing at her house. She wasn’t worried about how quickly it would sell. It was adorable, in a fantastic neighborhood, and had a modern kitchen and a newly remodeled bathroom, thanks to Spencer’s dad. And there was the added bonus that she worked for a real estate firm. No, selling would be a breeze, so she hadn’t even begun to take the steps necessary to do so.

  Most of her day at work was spent replaying the conversation in her head, short as it had been.

  Analyzing why was not something Spencer wanted to get into…even though part of her knew she should. Marti had wanted her to move in ages ago. It made sense. Marti’s place was much bigger, everything was new so there was nothing to update or change. Spencer thought of the painting she’d done in her own small house, painstakingly picking out paint chips at Home Depot (or Homo Depot, as Marti called it). Then she taped them up on the walls and looked at them for days and days before narrowing them down. Once she’d done that, she’d gone back to Home Depot and bought three or four tiny sample cans, brought them home, painted a swatch of wall, and looked at those for days and days more. Only after all of that did she decide on a color and paint the room. She’d gone through that process five times, for five different rooms, and she’d been thrilled with the results.

  That house was all Spencer. And she loved it.

  Marti’s house was beautiful, all open concept and big spaces. It was also a bit…cool. The walls were all creamy ivory, and Marti liked them that way. The kitchen, with its dark wood cabinets and deep slate countertops, was gorgeous, but also a little cold. Spencer often racked her brain to come up with ways to warm the place up, make it feel more like a home and less like the model house in a new housing tract.

  Try as she might to not think about the subject, to push it away, it hung out in the back of her head like a soccer player waiting to be put in, bouncing around in excitement, its energy too palpable to ignore completely.

  Spencer had never looked forward to the bride class at the gym before, so realizing she was doing just that helped a bit. I guess there’s a first time for everything. Seeing Rebecca in her new, friendly and approachable persona was something she found herself anticipating with an unexpected sliver of optimism. Seeing Rebecca in her workout clothes was another (though she tried not to get distracted by that).

  “Hey, how was your day?” Lucy asked when she and Spencer were standing at what had become their usual lockers. She was in her underwear and cheerful and bouncy as always. Spencer wondered if there was a person on the planet who wouldn’t like Lucy instantly.

  “It wasn’t bad,” Spencer said truthfully, then stopped with her hands on her bag and looked at her friend. “I don’t even know what you do. Do I?”

  “I teach kindergarten,” Lucy said, and nothing made more sense than that.

  “Oh, right. I remember now. Only a couple more weeks of summer left.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  Out in the gym, the five of them stretched, moves they now knew how to do on their own, so they didn’t have to wait for Rebecca to give them the go-ahead. Bella and Willow were talking about a cake decorating class. Brittany was on the other side of them, obviously listening and looking for a spot to jump in. Which she did.

  “What do you think of class so far?” Lucy asked Spencer quietly as they each did a hamstring stretch. “I’m loving it. I already feel better.”

  Spencer furrowed her brow. “You know what? I haven’t really thought about it, though I can tell you that I couldn’t straighten my arms all the way yesterday. I felt like a T. rex.”

  Lucy’s laugh was musical. “That’s good, though. Don’t you feel accomplished when that happens?”

  “That’s a good way to look at it. I’ve been trying to think like that.” Spencer had done her best to focus on that. To enjoy the exercise rather than dread it.

  “Hello, ladies.” Rebecca appeared in front of them dressed in her usual black workout pants. Today’s top was a deep purple T-shirt, the gray and purple Sauconys on her feet completing the outfit. Her dark hair was sleek, tucked behind her ears, and her gorgeous blue eyes were… Spencer couldn’t tell because Rebecca didn’t look at her.

  It stayed that way for most of the class. Spencer did catch a glance from Rebecca from across the gym while she was on the lat pull-down machine, and Rebecca was helping Lucy on the leg press. But that was about it.

  They finished up with sixty-second planks.
>
  “Jiminy Cricket, I hate these things,” she muttered, then lasted twenty-five seconds before having to drop to her belly and rest.

  “Nope,” she heard Rebecca say from above her. “Get up. You can do this.”

  There was no poke with her toe, and her tone, though just as firm as last time, didn’t hold the same disdain. Spencer groaned and pushed herself to her toes and forearms.

  “Fifteen more seconds,” Rebecca announced as Lucy dropped.

  Spencer had no idea how the other girls were doing, as she was on an end with Lucy to her left. Her arms quaked, her stomach muscles burned like they were on fire, and she dropped. Rebecca’s timer went off no more than five seconds later.

  “All right. All right. Not bad.” All five of the women were panting, a couple groaned. “Planks are notoriously hard because we tend to forget to concentrate on strengthening our core. But core strength is essential for good posture, to avoid back problems, stuff like that. So we’re going to keep working on it, and Friday, I’ll have some new moves for you.”

  More groaning, but Rebecca just grinned.

  Spencer rolled over onto her back, breath still ragged. Lucy followed suit.

  “See you on Friday,” Rebecca said, by way of dismissing them.

  Spencer watched as Rebecca walked away and headed up the stairs, not looking back. The PA was playing something by Rihanna, the first time Spencer had paid any attention to the music today. That was unusual, but she’d been too busy watching Rebecca. Watching Rebecca barely watching her.

  So, we’re back to that, are we?

  With a sigh, Spencer sat up. Lucy did the same, then stood and held out her hand. Spencer took it and Lucy pulled her to her feet. “You okay?” Lucy asked, squinting a bit at her.

  Spencer shot her a half grin that took too much effort. “I am.”

  “Good. You got really quiet once we started. I was wondering if you didn’t feel well.”

  With a shake of her head, Spencer said, “I’m fine. Just got some things on my mind.” Which wasn’t a lie. Together, they hit the locker room.

 

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