Sliding (The Stone Series) (38 page)

Mac begins to explain, “I don’t think about her much anymore, I did for a
long time after it happened but to be honest we didn’t know each other that
well. We had only worked together for a few months and we had only hooked up a couple
of times. I doubt it would have turned into anything more, I don’t know maybe
it would have. I’ve never been in love with anyone so in my mind I often wonder
if maybe I could have been in love with her but I never got the chance to find
out. I doubt it though; I was too young back then to settle down. I would have
blown it. But after what happened I promised myself I would never allow myself
to get involved with or have feelings for anyone I work with and I have kept
that promise to myself for a long time.” Mac abruptly changes gears, “We’ll
talk about this another time, you’re tired. I’m sorry I woke you up, you should
go back to sleep.”

Mac tells me that more of my things should be here tomorrow; I hope one
of them is a laptop so I can start my playlist for Tate that I have not
mentioned to Mac.

When I get to my room I close my door but I don’t lock it. Am I afraid of
having another nightmare and needing Mac to come to my rescue yet again or am I
leaving it unlocked hoping Mac will just come to my room? I lay there awake my
head filled with possibilities and unanswered questions.

The next morning I sleep until I hear Mac knocking on my door. I lay
still trying not to make even a rustle of the sheets. If he’s here with
packages for me I know he’ll leave whatever packages he has, if he’s here to
talk me into coming out of my room, I’m just not ready yet and after last night
I’m more perplexed than before. After I hear him pad away down the hall, no
doubt feeling rejected again, I quietly go to the door and peek into the
hallway like a child on Christmas morning. There are bags with my favorite hair
care products, more clothes, the laptop I asked for and a printer. On the
laptop I find a note with Mac’s handwriting on it. There are instructions on
how to access a special iTunes account so I can’t be tracked through the site
and an invitation to workout with him and someone named Sven in one hour.

I bring the bags into my room and place them on the floor. For the first
time since I have arrived here I finally make my bed and tidy up my room. I go
into the bathroom brush my teeth and put my hair in a ponytail. I throw on some
of my new clothes and power up the laptop. I start to think about what I want
to say to Tate with this playlist. “Fuck you” is the first thought that comes
to mind. I open up a word document and start to type a letter to include with
the playlist…

Dear Tate,

I want you to know that I am
safe and doing fine no thanks to you. I cannot give you any more details than
that and to be honest you don’t even deserve that much. I am confused and
saddened by the recent turn of events. But if I’m being completely honest I’m
not surprised. Why should I be? I have been waiting for this moment to happen
since the day we met. I guess after all this time I had finally started to
believe you that I was the only one you wanted, silly me. I can’t help but
wonder how many others there were, when it all started, but I don’t really want
the answer to that, do I? Anyway…we have always communicated best through music
and so I thought it would be fitting to send you this playlist that says it
all. Do not try to find or contact me, I will obtain legal representation
shortly and be in touch with you through them.

Brooklynn

I spend the next twenty minutes trying to think of songs that will convey
my feelings but I am agitated and anxious, I can’t focus or think. I need
something to clear my head. That’s when Mac knocks on my door. This time I open
it. I find him standing there in his workout clothes looking like a Marine at
boot camp. He is wearing a tight black t-shirt that emphases his broad
shoulders, narrow waist and bulky arms. He has cut off camouflage pants on that
give enough of an impression of a man in uniform to make me get a little hot
under the collar. My eyes casually roam over the bulge in the front of his
pants inappropriately. Well, well what have we here? A Marine standing at
attention? Why is my mind doing this to me? I snap out of my sex stare when I
hear Mac speaking to me.

“I thought maybe you’d like to work out with Sven and me for a while,
clear your head and all that. Don’t worry; he’s no worse than our trainer back
home.”

I did just say that I needed to clear my head. And I can’t very well not
work out ever again or I’ll go to flab in no time so I agree. I wish I could
shower and spend some time on my outfit selection but Mac says, “Great see you
in the gym in five minutes. It’s in the basement. Don’t be late or Sven will
really kick your ass.”

I change into a work out outfit that Mac had sent over for me as fast as
I can. I put on some deodorant and spray some perfume on my pressure points.
Not ideal after not showering since I left my house days ago but it’ll have to
do. I race out of my room and realize I have no clue where the stairs are that
lead to the basement. I try door after door with no luck. I frantically turn
and race to another hallway, that’s when I smack right into Mac’s rock solid
chest.

“The basement’s right over here, come on, you’re going to get both of our
asses kicked now for being late.”

Brook finally agreed to come out of
her room. She’s coming to my workout session with Sven today and I’ve warned
her not to be late but it seems like she’s not taking that warning very serious
as we are starting in less than two minutes and she’s nowhere to be seen. I
rush up to the main floor to see what’s keeping her when I see her rushing from
door to door. I stand there and watch her in the workout clothes I picked out
for her. I went online and ordered a bunch of stuff and had it all sent here
overnight. Today she’s wearing an outfit from Athleta. She has on midnight and
pacific blue shorts with a midnight blue tank top and silver sneakers. She
looks cute and sporty, I imagine like the cheerleader she once was. Her hair is
in a high ponytail and swinging from side to side as she runs through the
house. She doesn’t see me as I stand there watching her and when she gets
closer she runs right into me. I grab her by her arms so she doesn’t fall
backwards to the ground and I am rewarded with a burning sensation on my chest
where she has placed her hands. I smile down at her and tell her to hurry up.

We enter the gym to find Sven
leaning up against the wall with his arms folded. When I make eye contact with
him he glances at the clock on the wall and smirks. “Two minutes, two hundred
pushups, go” he says in perfect English without a hint of his German decent.
Sven is a large man, he’s at least six three and weighs in at two hundred fifty
pounds of pure muscle. He is versed in Kickboxing, Krav Maga and Karate. Today
we are in for a session of Krav Maga once our two hundred pushups are done. I
look at Brook and she shrugs and drops to give him two hundred so I quickly
follow suit.

After our pushups and Sven’s introduction to Brook we begin our workout
with heavy bag work. Brook and I begin using our own heavy bags with punch kick
movements. I am very distracted working out with her today even though I have
spent the last six months doing so.
 
Sven
picks up on this instantly and starts to work my ass over because of it. He
steps in to replace my heavy bag and unlike the bag Sven fights back and fights
back hard. I get knocked to my ass three times before I get a hit in knocking
him right on his. This only makes matters worse for me when he tells us it’s
time to switch to the medicine balls. Because Brook is new to this style of
torture he claims it would be a good idea for us to show her how the next
exercises work. He spends the next five minutes hurling a medicine ball at me
catching me in the balls a time or two but I refuse to let him see me flinch.
After he is satisfied that I have regained my focus he allows Brook and I to
work together with the medicine ball. By the time we move on to the Kettle Bells
Brook is looking like she is regretting agreeing to this. When I ask her if
she’s alright she says that she’s fine, “Just picturing the serious ass I’ll be
able to kick if I keep this up” she says. The Kettle Bells
move and rotate within our
hands offsetting the center of gravity and they demand our constant control and
concentration.

Sven and I go
through a few series of fighting techniques while Brook watches and gets a
breather. This time around, back on my game, I bring him to the floor two or
three times with clean shots that knock him off his feet. I glance over at
Brook and she either looks scared to death or turned on. Her eyes look a little
glassy and she’s playing with her hair. At one point when I glance over I think
I see her lick her lips. That’s when Sven knocks me down flat on my back before
calling me a “Pussy boy” and telling me it’s Brook’s turn.

He makes me do sit
ups and pull ups while he gently shows Brook some beginner techniques. I think
he’s sweet on her already and I’m going to be putting an end to that shit as
soon as she’s out of earshot and I can remind him who is paying his exorbitant
salary.
 
 

After completing the muscular strength and
cardiovascular endurance section of our workout by jump roping we end with
working on our dynamic flexibility. Brook will never have my strength but my
God is that girl flexible. She’s like a ragdoll without bones. Sven of course
just eats this up and makes me look like a fool. He has us stretching each
other and when I have her on the floor with her leg in my hand stretching it up
over her head all I can think about is doing that while she’s naked and I’m
inside her. Maybe asking her to workout with Sven and I was a mistake.

By the time we are done I am covered in
sweat, some from the workout, and some from watching Brook. Sven and I decide
to hit the showers in the gym so Brook returns to her room. After his shower
Sven dresses and heads back to the other guest house where he is staying and I
realize I left my clean clothes in my room. I wrap the wet towel around my
waist and head to my room. I never expect to find Brook with her hair wet and
wrapped in a towel of her own in the kitchen. I freeze when I see her and we
make eye contact.

I feel better
now that I have worked out and showered but I am so thirsty I can’t wait till
my hair is dried and I am dressed for a drink so I head to the kitchen in a
towel to get a quick water. I figure Mac is still in the showers or getting
dressed in the gym so I’ll be safe but I am so wrong. When I close the door to
the refrigerator I am staring at Mac wet and with a towel slung low on his
hips. His abs are ripped and still moist from his shower and there’s that bulge
again. His short tight hair is already starting to dry and I find myself hoping
that his towel just happens to accidently fall to the ground. He is standing
there looking at me and I finally realize why. I am standing here with my wet hair
a complete mess and an unattractive towel wrapped around me like a potato sack.

“Great
work out today, so do you do that every day?” I ask.

“Uh,
huh? What? I mean yes well no, kind of. Um, Sven and I do
Krav Maga two or three times a week. It’s
pretty intense but helps me keep my fighting skills toned. The other days we do
Karate or we kick box. Are you going to join us from now on?”

“Ah, yeah I think I
might. I was wondering if I could maybe make some space to start dancing again.
I think it’ll help me. I tried to listen to music earlier. Thanks for the lap
top by the way, but the music isn’t enough. I need to dance to feel. So do you
think I can find some space in the gym to dance?”

“Consider it done,
there’s a room off the gym with mirrors and a sound system, it’ll be perfect.
Let’s get dressed and I’ll show you. Meet you back here in ten?”

I don’t have time to
dress and dry my hair so I just scrunch it in a towel and hope if I don’t touch
it it’ll dry on its own and not look like a bird’s nest. I throw on a hot pink
tight t-shirt and black yoga pants and I rush to meet Mac back in the kitchen.
He’s already there waiting for me when I return. He’s dry now but still not
wearing a shirt. He has on a pair of low slung loose black sweatpants; bulge
still in place and his feet are bare. I really need to stop checking him out
like this. As much as I am enjoying looking at him without his shirt on I think
the fact that he’s barefoot is the hottest thing I have seen in a very long
time. I really don’t know what has come over me; it must be because he saved me
from danger or something. Or maybe I’m just trying to prove to myself that I’m
still desirable even though Tate went to another woman when he could have done
anything he wanted with me. That or I’m trying to become a slut before I hit
forty, either way, whatever, it has to stop.

Mac takes me back to the
gym and shows me a door off to the side. I noticed it earlier but assumed it
was a bathroom. It’s a huge dance space similar to my studio in the city. It
has floor to ceiling mirrors on three walls and the third is painted a soft
purple. There are speakers inset into the ceiling along with the recessed
lighting. Mac grabs a remote and presses a button. “Miss Independent” assaults
my senses. Mac smiles at me, “Perfect song, don’t you agree?” he asks as he
sits down in a chair.