Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Eyes that I’d then relied on for the next two years to get me out of every nightmare that ever took me over.
I didn’t know why, out of everyone that had helped me after that—the nurses and doctors, the paramedic that kept me alive, physical therapists, occupational therapists, psychiatrists, hell, even my sister—that his eyes were the only thing I was able to focus on that calmed me. But it was the cop that ran the man away before he’d gotten a chance to do anything. That man was the one that stuck out the most. He had stopped something from happening to me that would have broken me and I would never be able to recover from.
The coach’s jaw was chiseled—even under the short beard that covered the lower half of his face. I could even make out a chin dimple, too.
A chin dimple that was adorable on most people but was sexy as hell on him.
Seriously, the man was the whole package.
Dark brown hair that almost appeared black until he turned just right. Dark scruff on his face. Dark eyebrows, and eyelashes that were more suitable for a female than a male—or, at least, they were eyelashes that a female would kill to have without having to get them added on once a month.
His mouth was full, and his teeth were straight.
His Adam’s apple was prominent, and what I could see of his chest and legs—he was wearing jeans, motorcycle boots, and a black t-shirt—was just as muscular and toned as what I couldn’t see.
Did CrossFit coaches normally wear street clothes like that to the gym?
Outwardly, I couldn’t see any tattoos—but that didn’t mean he didn’t have any.
There was also a scar on his lip that looked like it’d happened recently.
“Are you even listening?” Mavis hissed.
No, no I was not.
“No,” I admitted. “Why?”
“He told us to go roll out.”
I had no idea what that meant.
“Holy shit, Mavis. What the hell?” I whispered to my sister the moment that she pulled us to a corner of the gym that was semi-private, sensing that I was losing it.
Mavis turned to me with the same dark blue eyes as my own.
“What the hell what?” she grumbled. “What’s your deal? You should be listening to this. It’s important.”
I couldn’t listen to anything that man said.
Mostly because his voice was so sexy that it made my chest ache.
“Who is that man?” I asked, unable to fully keep my gaze off of him.
When I looked toward him, it was to find him staring at me with curiosity on his face.
“That’s Taos.”
I frowned. “What? Chaos?”
She shook her head. “No. Taos. Like Chaos, but with a T.”
I blinked. What an odd name.
I thought mine was weird, but Taos… I liked it.
It suited him.
“You didn’t tell me he would be so intimidating,” I whispered.
Before we’d come, she’d told me absolutely anything and everything she could come up with regarding the gym.
That included who might and might not be coaching. But a ‘Taos’ was never mentioned by her.
Mavis turned to survey me. “Are you okay?”
I nodded, even though I was slightly queasy. “I’m fine. I just…he’s big. And intimidating, and his eyes are super watchful.”
Mavis tilted her head. “Taos used to be a cop. He’s watchful. He looks scary and unapproachable, but he’s a good man. I promise. I would never have brought you here if there were going to be people here that wouldn’t treat you like you need to be treated.”
I almost rolled my eyes.
My sister treated me like spun glass.
Ever since the incident, she never, ever let me stay alone if she could help it.
At first, it was because she was worried that I might up and die on her due to my injuries. Then she was worried that I might up and die on her because I was going to kill myself.
I wasn’t. Not after surviving. But that didn’t mean that I wasn’t super depressed and found it hard to stay engaged in life.
“Seriously, come on,” she urged. “Let’s get this started. Once you get your mind off of him and on dying instead, you’ll be able to do fine.”
I had a feeling I wouldn’t, but whatever.
“Sure,” I croaked.
“…we’re going to be doing baseline.” Taos’ voice was like a balm to my disconcerted soul. I had no idea why it rubbed me like it did, but I loved it a lot.
“What’s baseline?” A man in his late thirties, who was slightly overweight and had a beer belly on him, asked.
“Good question,” Taos said as he spun the board around to face us. “Baseline is a place where every CrossFitter starts. We’ll do baseline initially and then every once in a while, to see where we’ve improved. Once today, and once at the end of the bootcamp. And, if you decide to stay with CrossFit, then sporadically throughout the year.”