Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
“I want to lift with you.”
Jaxson arched a brow. “Well, good morning to you, too. How are you feeling?”
“Peachy,” I lied.
His snort told me he knew it was a lie, but he didn’t call me out on it. Instead, he wiped down the leg press that he was done with and mopped his face with a towel. “You want to lift, huh?”
“Yep.”
“This is a lot different than yoga, you know.”
“Don’t box me in, Brittzy,” I said, narrowing my eyes, but already I was smiling with the excitement I always felt when I was about to try something new.
He rolled his lips together against a grin, and then shrugged, gesturing toward the free weights. “Ever done RDLs?”
“Rapid Dick Licks?”
He nearly choked on the water he was taking a swig of as I skipped ahead of him over to the bench.
“Nah, I’m more of a take it slow kind of gal. You know, really swirl the tongue, use both hands, pretend like I have nowhere else in the world to be.”
Jaxson let out a groan of an exhale, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You are a menace.”
“To society, or to your mental health?”
“Both.”
“Why, thank you,” I said, and then I hung my hands on my hips. “Alright. Rapid Dick Licks. Let’s do this.”
I wasn’t sure Jaxson accomplished much with me in the forty-five minutes he attempted to train me, but I was certain we both got one hell of an ab workout from how much we laughed. I was thankful there wasn’t any sort of awkward tension hanging between us after I blatantly crossed our boundary line last night, and Jaxson — bless him — didn’t call me out on it, either.
It made me cringe if I thought too hard about it, how he had to put his teammate’s drunk little sister to bed while she tried to tear his clothes off.
Slowly, my headache began to fade, my stomach feeling more stable. I also started to get the hang of each exercise he showed me, and I liked the way it felt to push myself, to try something new and feel the way that burned my body in unfamiliar ways.
I was lifting approximately one percent of the weight he was, but still.
On my third and final set of bicep curls, Jaxson’s phone buzzed on the bench where he’d left it. When he slid his thumb across the screen, tension furrowed his brows, and he let out a heavy sigh before texting something in return.
He all but threw his phone back onto the bench.
“Let me guess,” I said, re-racking the weights and nodding toward his phone. “You got some girl pregnant.”
It was a joke, and apparently a bad one, because Jaxson’s smile was weak at best as he cracked his neck.
“Honestly, that might have been a better text.”
Well, shit.
“Who was it?”
“My dad.”
Through the haze of last night, I remembered me asking him about his parents, but we’d been interrupted before he could say much.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
He let out another long sigh. “Oh, fine. He was just reviewing film from our loss against Toronto that put us out of the playoff run and had some…” His jaw tensed. “Thoughts to share.”
I blinked. “Wasn’t that game months ago?”
“Indeed, it was.”
He didn’t elaborate. Instead, he jumped up to grab the bar that connected the two resistance machines in the middle of the gym. He repped out ten pull ups, exhaling little puffs of air at the top that told me he knew exactly how to breathe to best facilitate the movement that exercise required.
I hated that he changed the subject so quickly, but at the same time, I respected that distance he was silently asking me for. As someone who fucking hated getting into my sads, I understood that feeling of wanting a topic of conversation dropped.
So, I shoved down all my burning questions and skipped over to the bar just as his feet hit the ground.
“Me next!” I said, and I reached my hands up before jumping with all my might.
And I didn’t even touch the bar.
My hands fell to my thighs and I pouted, looking up at the bar and then at Jaxson.
He smirked, shaking his head and nodding toward the bar. “Alright, little Nova. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
His hands found my waist then, and he lifted me like I weighed nothing — just like he had the night before. I couldn’t fight back my smile as I found the height necessary to grab the bar, and once he was sure I had a good grip, Jaxson let go.
“Okay. Now what?”
He chuckled from behind me. “Engage your back, tighten your core, and lift yourself up.”
I nodded with determination, sticking my tongue out a little as I attempted what he’d said.
And barely budged.
I laughed hysterically, letting my body fall limp as I held onto the bar. “Nailed it!”