Totaled (24 page)

I laughed aloud at the incoming text from Grilled Cheese Master. He must have programmed his number into my phone when I excused myself to use the bathroom.

Grilled Cheese Master: R U running tomorrow?

Me: I was going to run early in the am B4 heading to the festival.

GCM: Skip your run. Meet me at the gym instead. You can work out with me.

Me: The gym is closed tomorrow. And to do what? I’m not a fighter.

GCM: Even better. Good thing I know the owner. Just come. I PROMISE you’ll get a good workout. Trust me.

I thought about it for a minute, my thoughts dirty at first but then turning to pure intrigue. It could be fun. And God knows I wanted to spend more time with him.

GCM: Please?

Realizing I hadn’t answered him yet, I typed my response.

Me: OK. I will see you at 7 am :)

GCM: Awesome! Bring a change of clothes. We can shower at the gym and head to the festival together. If you want.

Me: It’s a date.

GCM: Our first date. Goodnight Bree. xo

I lay down with the biggest smile on my face. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this happy. I tried to calm my mind down, but I couldn’t help recalling little details from my day with Drew. I was quite certain that I was falling in love with him. Eventually, my exhaustion set in and I drifted off to sleep, my alarm set for 6:15.

Chapter Twenty-Six

DREW

I was getting antsy. Although I was early, the gym parking lot completely deserted, I couldn’t stand waiting. I couldn’t wait to see her again, to touch her, to see her smile. This day was going to be fun. I hoped that Mick didn’t think me rude when he awoke to find my note saying that I planned to spend the day with Bree at the festival. I assumed he wouldn’t be offended based on his encouragement the other night.

Almost sensing her before I saw her SUV driving up, my heart started to beat a little faster. When she stepped out of the truck wearing short spandex shorts and a tank top that looked like they were painted on, I was certain I was going to have a heart attack. God, she was breathtaking. Even with no makeup on and her hair pulled back into a messy bun, she was perfect. I got out of my truck, grabbed my gym bag off of the passenger seat, and turned to follow her. I was met with her eyes staring me down and her smile of approval. My immediate beeline to her lips with a rough kiss took her off guard, but her half-hooded eyes and pinked lips gave me reassurance when I pulled away.

After kissing me back with just as much fervor, she retreated and chastised me. “We’re here to work out, Drew, not make out,” she scolded playfully.

“I was just saying good morning. I missed you,” I replied as I walked away from her and toward the back door of the gym. I didn’t have to turn around to see that she was smiling.

Watching her unlock the doors brought me to thinking of yesterday and how amazing it was, but I stayed focused and resisted the urge to do what I really wanted to do, push her up against the wall again and kiss her senseless.

I made my way over to the hooks on the wall holding the jump ropes. I grabbed one and started skipping quickly to warm up. She followed suit and was quite graceful at it, a natural athlete. After a few minutes of jumping, we walked over to one of the mats and sat down, Bree immediately spreading her legs apart into a straddle and reaching her hands down to grab her feet in a stretch. Following suit, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I copied each stretch she did, imitating her movements. It was quiet as we just breathed into the stretches. The energy and heat radiating off our bodies and the chemistry between us was palpable and tense, almost powerful.

Noticing that she was starting to extend her leg, holding the back of it behind her knee to stretch her hamstring, I seized the opportunity to touch her. Not asking permission, I came over to her, gently grabbing her extended leg at the ankle and placing my other hand over her thigh just above her knee. I slowly leaned into her, pushing her leg towards her, feeling exactly when I should stop advancing forward and hold still the stretch. Her eyes were closed as she took slow, deep breaths to try to relax the rest of her body. Her hamstrings were extremely tight, which I knew was common for someone who ran as much as she did. When she tapped my hand, I released my hold on her and she switched legs. We repeated the same stretching motion, me holding her steady. This leg was significantly tighter than the other and her face grimaced, her breaths sharp and short. I eased up when I felt that she needed me to and gave more resistance when I knew she could take more. Feeling so in tune with her body was foreign but nice. When she was all stretched out, she offered to do the same for me and I gladly accepted. It’s impossible to stretch better alone than with a partner. Her hands on my thighs alone was enough to make me begin to sweat and imagining her body beneath mine was about to make my gym shorts tent up, certainly embarrassing us both. I forced myself to think of fat, wrinkly grandmas just in time to stave off the urge to slam Bree onto the mat and pick up where we left off yesterday.

“So what do you have in store for us today, Coach?” she teased.

“Coach?” I questioned, chuckling at her happy-go-lucky, chipper attitude this early in the morning. “I was thinking I’ll take you through a typical cardio routine for me and we’ll adjust it down for you whenever we need to. We should tape up our hands first, though. I want to spar a little at the end and it isn’t good to stop and tape our hands in the middle of our workout.”

“Yes, true,” she agreed. “We don’t want our heart rates to slow down and our muscles to get cold and stiff. Plus, it’s hard to tape up your hands when you’re sweaty.” She put me in my place. “It’s not my first time around the gym, Drew. And I assure you that you won’t need to adjust the routine down for me. I can hang,” she advised with a smirk. Her feistiness was turning me on. Everything this girl said and did turned me on.

She walked away and returned with red and black tape and a roll of pre-wrap foam.

“Do you know how to do this?” I asked her.

“I’m sure I don’t do it as well as your trainers, but I’ve done it before a few times for Liam,” she replied with a touch of insecurity in her voice. So confident one second and second guessing herself the next; Bree was a tough nut to crack. “I’ll tape you first because I don’t know how well I can do it once my hands and fingers are all taped up.”

She grabbed my left hand first, holding it in hers, mine hard and calloused, hers soft and gentle. I watched her closely as she wrapped the pre-wrap foam around my wrist first. She wound the roll around and around, all the while concentrating on what she was doing. The harder she concentrated, the more she licked over her bottom lip to wet it, sometimes even taking her lower lip in between her teeth. It was another cute and endearing idiosyncrasy that I was discovering and learning to love about her. Once she was ready for the tape to go on, I almost spoke up to direct her a little, but before I could even open my mouth, she was placing two fingers in between the pre-wrap and the tape to make some room for movement. She knew exactly what she was doing. I smiled at first, happy that my hands weren’t going to be taped up too tight. She weaved the tape around my hand, bringing it in between each of my spread apart fingers, with such ease and fluidity. We kept meeting each other’s gaze; I was staring at her the whole time and she would glance up at my face periodically. I couldn’t help but feel shocked at how intimate a moment this was, sitting closely, breathing the same air, feeling each other’s heat, my hands in her grasp, with her completely in control. I was at her mercy and felt vulnerable, which was an unfamiliar feeling for me. It was remarkable.

When she was finished, she held out the supplies for me and I taped her hands in a similar fashion. She told me that it was a strange feeling, having her hands taped. She had never been taped up before and her admission of this sent me into a frenzy of inappropriate thoughts and images. I seriously needed to get a grip. I finished up the preparation without making more eye contact and it was time to get started.

“Lead the way,” she said enthusiastically.

We were stretched, taped, and warm, so I got started. I lead her into a series of exercises that were a fairly easy going circuit for me, one that I often did a version of the day after a fight to get cardiovascular exercise but also allow my muscles to continue to repair themselves. As Billy Badass as she was acting, I knew she wasn’t anywhere near the level of fitness that I was. I demonstrated the circuit for her first and then watched her do a set to make sure her technique was correct. Then we did it together. Box jumps, burpees, tricep dips on the step up box, lunges with air boxing combinations, and finally planks. We were breathing heavily and sweat was soon dripping off of us onto the mats. We threw the medicine ball back and forth in a chest-pass motion and did short sprints to the far wall and back after ten tosses back and forth. It was a simple workout, but one of the most enjoyable ones I could remember in a long while because of her company. We joked and teased each other here and there, but we were also focused when we needed to be. I started to show her the speed bag and demonstrate how to use it properly but she looked at me like “child, please” and shoved me aside, apparently already a professional at working the bag. She suggested doing a set of wall squats in between each set of speed bag punches.
Is this girl for real?
She was pushing me to do more, to be better. It was refreshing and fun.

After a water break, we met in the center ring and decided to spar a little.

“Let’s just do some easygoing boxing here. I’ll hold the focus mitts for you and you show me what you’ve got,” I urged.

“Just boxing? What about kicking?” Bree questioned.

“We’ll get to that. Just punches for now. I will show you some combinations in a minute. But first, do what you want, what feels natural. I’ll follow your lead.”

Her facial expression perked up when I told her that, as if no one ever let her take the lead and be in charge before.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

BREE

Sparring with Drew was actually fun. He was impressed that I knew the proper technique for the most part and I capitalized on the opportunity to release all of my pent up angst, aggression, and anxiety. I was amazed at just how therapeutic it was. I always pictured Dad’s fighters as disciplined athletes but egotistical hotheads, often unintelligent, with one-dimensional personalities. But being in their place, feeling what they feel—it was completely mind-altering. There were moments when I didn’t think about what I was doing or going to do next, I simply felt it. My body moved in whatever way it needed to. It was cathartic, and an amazing workout. When exhaustion finally set in, we called it quits. All I really wanted to do was curl up on my bed and take a long, hard nap, but Drew wanted to take me on a first date. How was I supposed to say no to that? I definitely wanted to spend more time with him.

We showered and got dressed in separate locker rooms this time, which was probably for the best. I stood in front of the full length mirror, analyzing my appearance like never before. It was as if I had this newfound confidence and awareness of myself. I had chosen khaki shorts and a cute tank top for the day, picked out this morning before leaving the house, without much thought put into it. But now wearing it, I was glad I selected them. The shorts were pretty short, but flattering. I took a moment to admire my shapely legs. I had nice legs. Long, toned, and while I didn’t have a bouncy, curvy ass like Sue, I had a little something to grab onto. My breasts weren’t the largest but at least they were perky. Yeah. I guess I was kind of pretty. I just never had a reason to notice or care before.

I blew my hair dry and threw it up into a ponytail. I brushed a little bit of powder over my face after my sunscreen was dry and ran some mascara over my lashes. Subtle, natural, not trying too hard. Here goes.

When I walked out of the women’s locker room, Drew was already sitting on the bench at the front of the gym. I would never get tired of seeing his sexy hair still slightly wet from his shower. He stood to greet me and his eyebrows rose in approval.

“Ready?” he asked eagerly.

“Yes. Sorry. Have you been waiting a long time?”

“No, just a few minutes.”

He was wearing cargo shorts and a t-shirt that fitted over his muscles perfectly, enough to make me feel an overwhelming urge to run my fingers over his chest and abs. Nervousness set in and I knew my face was turning red.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” I said, feeling like there was no saliva in my mouth and a frog had taken residence in my throat.

“Don’t be nervous. It’s only a date,” he teased.

“What makes you think I’m nervous?”
Who was I kidding?

“Because I am,” he admitted, “so I was hoping you were too. Let’s both just relax and have fun. No pressure. Just us, hanging out. Show me the festival.”

I took a deep breath, relieved that he shared my edginess and relieved that he knew what to say to calm me down. “Okay. Let’s go.”

We walked the few blocks distance between the gym and the edge of the festival booths, hand in hand, exchanging small talk and smiles. We opted to eat first, both starved from our morning workout.