~~~~
The following afternoon I find myself thinking about something I never considered before.
How to hurt Juliana.
Option number one: throat punch her. From the arc trainer next to mine, she’s just the right height for my fist.
Option number two: pull the cord to her ear buds. When they fall, they might tangle around her feet and slow her down.
Option number three –
“You’re doing great!”
Jules gives me an enthusiastic thumbs up and I give her a weak smile in return. I can’t believe I let her talk me into going to the gym. I’ve never worked out before and trying to keep up with her pace feels like torture. When she introduced me to the arc trainer, she said the machine was great for cardio. She said nothing about the possibility of a having a stroke. I never run, and this machine is making me. Sweat runs down my forehead and down my back; hell, it even runs between my boobs. I glance down at the workout top Juliana made me borrow and frown at the growing stain. How is anything getting down there? The girls are pushed together so tight they look like I’ve had plastic surgery.
Finally the machine beeps, letting me know it’s time to cool down after forty-five minutes of insanity. I look at Juliana. She fans herself and slows her steps. I slow down too, but my hands remain glued to the machine. They’re sealed to the handles with a layer of sweat. I can’t let go and keep moving. I’ll lose my balance for sure.
Once we’re finished I step off the arc on to wobbly legs. I grab my water bottle and chug. Juliana takes out her ear buds. “How do you feel?”
I swallow and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “Like road kill.”
“Excellent!” Juliana gives me an energetic smile instead of sympathy. “Let’s give your legs a rest and work on arms.”
Oooo. Let’s.
We walk over to the free weights, which happen to be stacked in front of floor to ceiling mirrors. Jules reaches for the five pound weights and hands them to me. Then, she grabs the ten pound weights for herself.
“Okay. Follow along in the mirror.”
I do as I’m told and the whole time I question why. This hurts. As my biceps start to quiver, I assess my situation. I know Jules wants a workout buddy, but I’m not sure I’m the best girl for the job. Sure, there’s a little extra junk in the trunk I could stand to lose. But I’m not a big fan of sweat. Or fatigue.
Or the cramp forming in my side.
I’m formulating a plan to break the news to Juliana when a guy walks up and selects a set of heavier weights. He steps back and places them on the ground, then reaches behind his head to stretch. The bottom of his t-shirt rises, revealing the waistline of his gym shorts and that deep V you read about in romance novels.
I miss a step following Jules. Holy abs, Batman. I start to reconsider my stance on working out.
By the time we return our weights to the rack, thirty minutes have passed. We’ve been at the gym for almost two hours; it has to be time to leave. Excited by the idea of a hot shower, I consider skipping to the locker room despite feeling tired. After I drain my water bottle, I ask, “Is it time to go?”
“Almost.” Juliana starts to walk away. “There’s another machine I want you to try.”
Argh! “Are you trying to kill me?”
She laughs. “No. It’s one of my favorite machines and it’s rare to find it unoccupied. Let’s go before someone claims it.”
Her ponytail bobs as she power walks to a piece of equipment in the corner. When we reach it I read the name: Hammer Strength Leg Press. To me, it resembles something out of the middle ages.
“This one is great for your quads and glutes,” she says. “You sit here.” She plants her ass in the seat. “Then, lean back.”
Juliana looks like she’s lying on the ground in a chair that’s been tipped over. She raises her legs in the air. “You place your feet here,” she sets her shoes against a rectangular black plate in front of her, “and push.”
My hands land on my hips. “You look like you’re at the gynecologist.”
“Ha!” She laughs before unlocking the machine and completing two sets of ten reps. When she finishes, she pauses to breathe before doing more.
“Your turn,” she says and slides out of the seat.
Feeling wary, I trade places with her. I mimic Juliana, and when I set my feet against the plate, my knees are a centimeter from my chest. I’m crunched into a ball. I grab hold of the handles to unlock the machine like she did, and the weight falls against me. I straighten my legs to push it back up.
Holy hell this is heavy.
“Good!” Jules encourages me. “Try to do ten.”
I’m on number three when she looks up and gets sidetracked. “Oh, there’s Carly from the salon. I need to see if she can switch shifts with me. I’ll be right back.”
Yes! There’s no way I’m doing ten leg presses. Even though I finished with the arc a while ago, my legs still feel like Jell-O. I finish the fourth press, then let my knees fall against my chest to rest. This is crazy. I look up and notice the weight of the plate is written next to my toe. One hundred and ninety pounds. No wonder I can’t do this!
After I breathe for a couple of minutes, I push against the plate to lift it so I can get out of the machine. It barely moves.
Oh no.
I try again, but my legs are so wasted I don’t have the strength. Not even enough to push the weight an inch higher so I can lock it into place and crawl out. I wait a second and try again. Nothing happens, except my legs shake.
This is not happening.
I’m stuck.
I’m stuck in a Hammer Strength leg press!
I lay my head back and close my eyes. Okay. It’s not a big deal. Juliana will be back in a minute and she’ll help me. I just have to keep the weight from completely crushing my legs into my body. I can do this.
I can do this.
I can do this.
The weight grows heavier against my feet, and my thighs press uncomfortably against my ribs.
I can’t do this!
My heart starts to pound. I will be the first person to be crushed to death in a leg press. I know it. It will make headlines.
“Looks like you could use some help.”
Awww, hell. I know that voice.
I open one eye to find Latson standing over me. “What makes you think so?” I wheeze.
“Your face is beet red.”
Shit.
Before I can ask, he steps forward and lifts the weight off of my feet. I lock the handles into place and roll out on to the ground. I don’t care that the floor of the gym is infested with germs. I don’t care that I’m lying on my side in too tight workout clothes in front of a hot guy. All I care about is the return of circulation to my legs.
Latson crouches down beside me. “Is it that bad? How long were you in there?”
I should lie and say an hour. “Only a few minutes.”
He chuckles. “It’s a good thing I found you.”
“Are you stalking me?”
He smirks. “I joined this gym two years ago. No.”
I decide to sit up and he helps me by pulling my wrist. Once I’m on my butt, I look at him. He’s wearing navy blue athletic shorts and another plain white t-shirt. I grab the material with two fingers and pull. “Don’t you own any other clothes?”
“What do you mean?”
“Every time I see you you’re wearing a plain white tee.”
He gives me the half smile with the dimple. “Sounds like you’re the one stalking me.”
I fight the blush rising in my cheeks. “Pfffft. In your dreams.”
He tries to help me stand, but I manage on my own. As I brush my legs to get rid of any dirt, he asks, “Are you finished with your work out?”
I toss an irritated look at the machine that tried to suffocate me. “I’d say so.”
“That’s too bad. I could spot you.” He smiles and takes a step. “You know, teach you to exercise the right way.”
He looks casual, but his tone insinuates he’s not talking about exercise. “I don’t think Heidi would appreciate the lesson,” I say.
Juliana comes up behind me. “How was it?” Then, she notices my company. “Ohhh. Hey, Latson.”
“Hey.” He crosses his arms. “Just so you know, I saved your friend from death.”