The Shape of You

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The Shape of You Page 16

by Georgia Beers


  She wasn’t sure how to do either.

  * * *

  Once Spencer had left her, satisfied but at the same time not, Rebecca had spent the rest of the weekend alone. At first, it was alone with her thoughts. But when that became too much to deal with, she went to a movie. Being able to focus on something else for two hours was awesome, but as soon as she left the theater, Spencer came screaming back into first place in her head. Visions of her sexy eyes, soft hair, gorgeously feminine curves pummeled Rebecca’s mind until she wanted to shout for them to leave her alone—especially when the accusatory thoughts about how she’d overstepped her bounds as a trainer began to seep in. So the rest of the weekend was spent with Lysol. And Comet. And Tide. And Pledge. And Windex. Whenever Rebecca got stuck in a rut of endless thoughts, she cleaned.

  By the time she got to work on Monday, she felt the slightest bit better and her house sparkled like the calm ocean in the sunshine.

  She would talk to Spencer. That was the plan.

  It made her nervous. With every hour the clock ticked away, the butterflies in her stomach kicked things up a notch. But she was sure it was the right thing to do.

  “I don’t want to.” Mrs. Chase gave Rebecca a stubborn look as she sat on the upper body ergometer. It was basically an exercise bike that you pedaled with your hands instead of your feet, and Mrs. Chase’s doctor had sent her for a bit of conditioning and rehab.

  Rebecca sighed internally, as she went through this very same argument with the elderly woman every other time she came to the gym. “Mrs. Chase, you know this will help you get your strength back in your arms and upper body. You were in the hospital for a long time. You need to work back to your normal self again.”

  “I’ll never be my normal self again.” Her eyes welled up, not for the first time, and Rebecca put a hand on her shoulder.

  “How about we do it in short spurts. Okay? Let’s start with two minutes. You can do two minutes, can’t you?”

  “I don’t want to,” Mrs. Chase said again, but with less ire.

  “I understand that. But…can you?”

  The woman blew out an obviously annoyed breath. “Fine.” She began pedaling with her hands and Rebecca quickly set the monitor for two minutes.

  “Terrific. See how good you’re doing already?”

  To Rebecca, people like Mrs. Chase were perfect examples of why you should get yourself in shape and stay that way from a young age. A couple months ago, she’d taken a spill down the stairs in her house and, because of her sedentary lifestyle, had little muscle tone. Recovery was taking much longer than it should. If she’d been a bit stronger, she’d have cut weeks off her hospital stay.

  Now it was up to Rebecca to help her understand that, even at seventy-six years old, exercise and health were paramount to living a long, productive, and independent life.

  “I hope you have a wastebasket nearby in case I throw up,” Mrs. Chase said, a little fire in her gaze.

  “I’m not worried.” Rebecca managed somehow to not roll her eyes at the drama queen that her client could be.

  They finished up in twenty more minutes that felt like five hours to Rebecca. She helped Mrs. Chase to the women’s locker room. “See you on Wednesday, Mrs. C.”

  “If I’m still around” was the response, as Mrs. Chase walked away from Rebecca and into the locker room.

  This time, Rebecca just shook her head, a small grin on her face. When she turned around, she saw Spencer walking in her direction, scrolling on her phone. She looked up, saw Rebecca, and faltered, did a little stutter-step to a halt.

  “Hey,” she said, from about six feet away.

  “Hi,” Rebecca responded, even as she felt her palms start to sweat. “Um, listen, Spencer, can I talk to you for a second?”

  Spencer looked hesitant, glanced around as if some other obligation would present itself.

  “Just for a second. I promise.” Rebecca held out an arm behind her. “There’s an empty office over here.” At the look Spencer gave her, Rebecca forced herself to smile and said, “We’ll leave the door open.”

  Seeming to realize she was being a bit silly, Spencer grinned. “Sure.” She followed Rebecca to the office, sparsely appointed with a simple metal desk and two chairs.

  Neither of them sat, and Rebecca stared at the industrial gray carpet for a moment, scrambling for the words she’d rehearsed all day. “Listen, Spencer, about Saturday…” She looked up at the ceiling, hunting through her brain for the right way to say what she wanted to say. There was so much. So many things. Finally giving up, she blurted, “Can we be friends? Please?”

  Spencer blinked at her, the surprise on her face clear. “Really?”

  Rebecca’s smile was genuine this time. “Yes, really. I like you. Physical attraction aside, I like you.”

  “Really?” Spencer asked again. “’Cause I was pretty sure you didn’t. Physical attraction aside.”

  The chuckle came from deep in Rebecca’s stomach; she felt it rumble up. “Yeah, I know. That was on me and I’m sorry. I was an asshole for…reasons that had nothing to do with you.”

  Spencer studied her with those gorgeous blue eyes the color of an early-April spring sky, as if trying to read her thoughts. Several seconds ticked by before she said quietly, “I like you, too.”

  “Good.” Rebecca gave one nod and tried to tamp down her relief. “Friends it is, then.”

  Spencer tilted her head. “Will it be awkward?”

  “Not if we don’t let it.”

  “Is it that simple?” Spencer pushed a grimace to one side of her face.

  “I say yes.”

  “Well, okay then. As long as you say yes.” The laugh that bubbled out of Spencer was cute and inviting, deeper than Rebecca expected, but still very feminine.

  “You’d better get yourself changed, young lady. You don’t want to make your trainer mad because you’re late for class.”

  Spencer groaned, dropped her head back toward her shoulder blades. “God, she’s such a hardass.”

  “Hey!” Rebecca swiped playfully at her as Spencer dodged her, hurried out of the office and down to the locker room, where she disappeared inside. Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief.

  Friends. This is good.

  Things had changed during class. It was obvious. Spencer was more relaxed, even as she worked her ass off doing all the lunges and squats Rebecca demanded of her. Rebecca did her best to be encouraging and Spencer seemed to work extra hard. And there was joking. Fun teasing.

  “You want to feel it deep in that ass,” Rebecca said, of the squats the brides were doing.

  “That’s what she said,” Spencer muttered, causing Lucy to bust out into a laugh that was quickly followed by the other three women. Soon, all five of them and Rebecca were doubled over in fits of laughter.

  “You’re all useless,” Rebecca said, waving a dismissive hand at her class, her own laughter only just dying down. “Do some stretches, then get the hell out of my gym. See you Wednesday.” She left them, shaking her head and smiling widely at the familiar joke, and headed to her desk, her day just about done.

  It had been the first time that she actually enjoyed the bride class. They were fun. They worked hard. Rebecca was proud of them. Proud of Spencer. She wanted to tell her how well she was doing, that she could see changes in her, significant shifting of mass and building of muscle. But now she was a bit worried it could be taken the wrong way, so she’d stayed quiet, encouraging the class as a whole instead.

  Now, her stuff gathered, she slung her bag over her shoulder and headed toward the front desk and door. A glance to her right told her Spencer was at the smoothie bar, and before she could think about it, her body turned and walked in that direction as if she wasn’t in command of her feet.

  Spencer saw her coming and held up her hands. “Back! Stay back, smoothie spiller!”

  Rebecca barked a laugh. “That was so not my fault, little Miss Doesn’t Watch Where She’s Going.”

  “
I’m on towels tonight, Rebecca,” came Bobby Pine’s voice, followed by the squeaking wheels of the cart he pushed. “I’m gonna wash ’em all up good.”

  “I know you will, Bob. Nobody’s better at it than you.”

  He held out a fist as he approached and Rebecca bumped it with her own. “Was it a good day for you?”

  Rebecca glanced at Spencer, then back toward him. “It was.”

  “I’m going to make my night good, too. I am determined!” He turned to Spencer. “Hello, blond lady.”

  “Hi,” Spencer said with a grin. “I’m Spencer.” Rebecca was pleasantly surprised to see that her face held no negative reactions to Bobby, unlike a large majority of people. No fear. No hesitation. Her smile was genuine and then she offered him her fist, which delighted him.

  “Nice to meet you, Spencer. I’m Bobby.”

  “Nice to meet you, Bobby.”

  “Okay. I have to wash these towels now. And then fold them, which I don’t like.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Spencer said. “Folding is my least favorite thing to do.”

  Bobby’s face lit up at the discovery of common ground. He turned to Rebecca. “She’s nice. I like her.”

  Rebecca grinned at him and waved him off in the direction of the laundry room. “See you tomorrow, Bob.”

  “Bye, Rebecca,” he called as he pushed the cart away. “Bye, blond—er, Spencer.”

  They watched him go until he was out of sight. When Rebecca turned her gaze back toward the smoothie bar, Spencer was looking at her.

  “You’re good with him,” she said.

  “No reason not to be. He’s a good guy. Works hard.”

  “Not everybody sees that first. They see that he’s different and they judge. Immediately.”

  Rebecca cocked her head and raised her eyebrows.

  “My brother is intellectually disabled.”

  “Ah,” Rebecca said with a nod. That explained why Spencer had never been put off by Bobby. “I didn’t know that.”

  “I have looked out for him all my life.”

  “That can be hard on a kid. He older or younger?”

  “Younger.”

  “Well, he’s lucky to have you for a big sister.” She smiled as the girl behind the counter slid a smoothie in front of Spencer, noticed the color. “Blueberry this time?”

  “If I had known you would be this close to me, I’d have ordered something with less staining power. Vanilla, probably.”

  “Oh, you’re hilarious.” But Rebecca couldn’t keep the smile from her face. This was good. It felt…easier to be around Spencer since they talked. Friends. Who knew? “Okay, I’ve got to run.” She reached out a hand, gave Spencer’s shoulder a squeeze. “See you Wednesday.”

  “Have a good one.”

  Rebecca headed out the doors and to her car, the smile still there, her mind still a jumble of thoughts, but a different mix than the past couple of days. This was the right thing. Friends was the right thing. Much as she’d flashed back to their time in her house, as often as she thought about how amazing it was to kiss Spencer, to hold Spencer’s warm, soft breast in her hand, she knew this was the right path. She’d let herself get sucked in, as had Spencer, and the best thing to do now was to step back. She had thoughts about the state of Spencer’s relationship—so many thoughts!—but it wasn’t her place to voice them. And really, what did she actually know? Like, for a fact? Only things she assumed, and assuming was never good.

  She gave her head a literal shake as she slid into the driver’s seat.

  Forward. That was the only way to go.

  Shifting into gear, Rebecca headed home.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The cool weather was probably the reason Turtle’s was so busy that Sunday afternoon. The cool weather and football. While not a new bar by any stretch of the imagination, it was new to Lucy’s fiancé, Ethan.

  “He wants to check out the football-watching scene,” Lucy had told Spencer on the phone that morning. “I need a friend to sit with because he’s going to be glued to the TVs and I’ll be bored inside of ten minutes.”

  Spencer laughed. “I don’t know, Luce. My Sunday was going to be very exciting, what with the cleaning of the bathroom and the washing of my sheets. Not sure you can measure up.”

  “Ha ha. Very funny. Please. I’m begging you.”

  “I know better than to turn away a woman who’s begging me, and I actually enjoy football. What time?”

  It was after two by the time Spencer entered Turtle’s, and she stopped inside to let her eyes adjust. It was sunny out, but also the end of September, so the temperatures were starting to cool down. When she could finally see, Lucy’s hand was waving back and forth like she was at a concert. Spencer headed toward the small table.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” Lucy said as she stood and wrapped Spencer in a hug. “This is my fiancé, Ethan. Honey, this is Spencer.”

  “Ah, the infamous Spencer.” Ethan was of average height and average appearance, but his dark eyes were inviting and friendly and his sandy hair made Spencer clench her fist to keep from ruffling it. He just seemed…warm. She expected nothing less from the man who’d landed Lucy Schubert. “It’s so nice to finally have a face to go with the name. Lucy talks about you all the time.” He held out his hand, shook Spencer’s with a firm grip, then indicated the empty chair. “Sit. Can I get you something?”

  “The waitress is a bit overwhelmed,” Lucy told her. “So we’ve been going to the bar to get drinks.”

  “I’d love a beer,” Spencer said. “Anything light is fine.”

  “You got it.” Ethan waved off Spencer’s offer of money and sidled up to the bar.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” Lucy practically squealed again, closing her hand over Spencer’s. “Thank you!”

  “Hey, don’t thank me until I’m sure this is more exciting than wiping out the inside of my microwave. Jury’s still out.”

  “Where’s Marti today?”

  “She had some client brunch thing to go to.”

  Lucy nodded, and Spencer caught something flash across her face. Before she could ask about it, Ethan was back.

  “One light beer and one Amaretto sour,” he announced, delivering the women their drinks.

  The next hour went by quickly; Spencer was surprised when she’d glanced at her watch. Turtle’s only got busier, with more people arriving than leaving. Every barstool around the U-shaped bar was occupied, and the seven TVs showed several football games. Spencer was amused every time cheers went up in one part of the bar, but not the rest. Ethan was as absorbed in the games as Lucy predicted, so Spencer really didn’t have much opportunity to talk to him, but it was fine. She liked him anyway, and chatting about mundane things with Lucy was always entertaining.

  “My turn to buy a round,” Spencer said as Lucy drained her glass. Empties in hand, she approached the bar, found a tiny sliver of space between a burly bearded man in his forties and a slim, college-age guy wearing a bit too much cologne, and slid into it sideways. “Sorry,” she said when Beardy looked her way.

  “Not a problem,” he said, with a friendly smile and inched himself over to make more room.

  In the several minutes it took for a bartender to even notice her, Spencer looked around. People watched. The crowd was overwhelmingly male, which was unsurprising, but there were a few jersey-clad women scattered among the guys. There were groups of friends, obviously there together, judging by their high fives and clinking of beer glasses. There were also a few that seemed solo, sitting quietly, sipping their cocktails, watching the various TVs. As Spencer scanned around the bar, her gaze stopped. Or rather was stopped. By a brunette directly across from where Spencer stood.

  Rebecca.

  She was full-on laughing about something (Spencer realized she’d never actually heard that laugh), head thrown back, teeth showing. Then she punched the large man next to her in the arm and pointed at the guy sitting on the other side of him.

&nbs
p; “Miss?”

  Spencer blinked and was pulled back to her own space at the bar by the bartender, who looked at her expectantly.

  “Oh. Sorry.” She placed her order, which came quickly, paid, and sent a last glance toward Rebecca before returning to Lucy and Ethan.

  What are the chances?

  Lucy thanked her. “We’re probably heading out when this game is over.”

  And they did.

  “I’m going to hang and watch some of the next game,” Spencer said, as Lucy hugged her and thanked her again for “saving me from the dullsville of football.”

  Ethan also hugged her, saying, “Thanks for actually liking football.”

  Spencer smiled as she watched them go. Several people were leaving, as if it was a changing of the guards with the new games starting. A couple of stools opened up, and Spencer grabbed up her jacket, purse, and half-drunk beer, and snagged the one next to Beardy. Cologne Guy had apparently left.

  As she settled in and got comfortable, she did her best not to look toward where she’d seen Rebecca. That wasn’t why she’d stayed, right? She stayed to watch the next game get started and finish her beer.

  Yeah. That’s what she was doing.

  She lasted about six minutes before her body betrayed her and her head turned away from the TV and in that general direction. Rebecca was looking right at her, what seemed to be a mix of surprise and happiness on her face. With a come-hither wave of her hand, she invited Spencer to sit with them, indicating what must have been an empty stool next to her.

  Spencer thought about it. She did. Thought about politely shaking her head no. Thought about quietly slipping off her stool and leaving. And slip off her stool she did, once again gathering up her jacket, her purse, her beer. But then she was walking toward Rebecca, rounding the bar as she saw her lean toward the big man next to her and say something. Then both of them watched Spencer’s approach.

  “Hi,” Rebecca said, when Spencer arrived. “What are you doing here?”

  Spencer got up onto the stool and settled herself. “I met Lucy and her fiancé. We’ve been sitting at a table over there since two.” She pointed with her chin.

 

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