Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
“Let’s begin, class.” Penny strode to the portable speaker set up in the corner of the studio and cued a Rüfüs Du Sol song. “Adjust your springs for footwork and lie flat, parallel feet on the bar. Inhale to prepare and exhale out.”
“What does that even mean?” Gus asked in his regular tone.
“Shh. Just follow along.” I motioned for him to watch me as I bent my knees and pushed the reformer out.
“This is easy, dude,” he scoffed, pumping his legs double time.
Penny paused to add weight to Gus’s reformer and give him a few tips. “Slow down and breathe through each extended motion.”
“Oh. That’s harder.”
“You’ve got this. Nice and slow. Ten…nine…eight…” Penny counted.
Gus grunted over the ethereal tunes with the kind of energy associated with deadlifting a hundred pounds or…acrobatic sex. We’re talking loud grunts.
I snickered and shushed him again. He glowered in response but did his best to muffle his grunts of discomfort.
The next exercise involved being on our knees and facing the rear of the machine. It was an arm and balance challenge, which shouldn’t have been difficult for a large jock with huge biceps whose sport required insane core and balance skills.
“Piece of cake.” Gus wiped his brow with his forearm and grinned as he kneeled, grabbed for the straps, and face-planted.
This was Gus, so of course, he popped up immediately, brushing off the concern of nearby students while I bit the hell out of the inside of my cheek in an effort not to burst into inappropriate laughter.
“Are you okay?” I choked out.
“Like you care,” he snarked.
“I do. Just…quit falling.”
Ten minutes later, he did it again. This time he was standing on the reformer and doing a side lunge. Gus hadn’t mastered the art of moving slowly and it messed with his balance as he glided out, sending him flying forward into me. I jumped off before I collided with Celine, but it was a narrow miss. Needless to say, it caused another disruption in class. Everyone stopped to fuss over the hockey stud.
And me? I chortled like a loon, and I couldn’t seem to stop. Penny, Celine, and the rest of the class aimed accusatory looks my way, and I understood. I really did. I apologized, excused myself, and stumbled out of the studio.
I flopped onto the bench facing Elm Street, wiping tears away. I took the moment of calm to take stock of my situation. I mean…what the hell was I doing? I was a serious athlete with a case of the yips whose dream was fizzling and fading fast. I should have been at the rink, not hanging out with my goofy, sexy, funny, hunk of a roommate. His offer to help was sincere, but I had to do this on my own and refocus my energy on—
“You should have told me there were flying apparatuses and multiple ways for a normally coordinated guy to make a fool of himself,” Gus grumbled, wiping his brow with a towel.
I chuckled. “I thought you knew. It was your idea.”
“Yeah, well…let’s stick to bird-watching and skipping stones. Pilates is fuckin’ treacherous.” He uncapped a water bottle and slugged half of it down. “You enjoyed seeing me fall on my ass, didn’t you?”
I scooted to make room for him on the bench, shaking my head as laughter bubbled in my throat. “Don’t be silly. I felt terrible.”
“Liar,” he huffed, eyes twinkling merrily. He drank the rest of his water and braced his elbows on his knees. A lock of chestnut hair dipped across his forehead and damn it, I itched to push it aside. I was so busy admiring his profile that his stare caught me off guard. Gus smiled gently. “How do you feel?”
I returned the gesture tenfold. I didn’t mean to…it just sort of burst out of me. “I feel great. Thank you.”
“For sacrificing my body for your amusement?”
“No. For encouraging me to shake up my routine and have fun.”
Gus inclined his chin and draped his arm across the back of the bench. “I think you’re ready.”
I frowned. “I don’t know. I was at the rink yesterday and I sucked…as usual.”
“Let’s go now and see what happens.”
“Now? No…I can’t. I have an assignment to finish and—”
“Hey, Rafe. Breathe.” He trailed soothing fingertips along my upper arm. “You got this, and you know it. I’ll be right there and if you fall…unlike you, ya heartless fucker, I won’t laugh.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not the same thing.”
“I know. I really do,” Gus assured me kindly. “I’ve been there, you know. My freshman year of college hockey was a bust. It started out okay, but one day I woke up and everything felt off. I can’t describe it any other way. I’d pass the puck and it would miss by this much.” He held his fingers an inch apart. “Every fucking time. The coach got irritated with me. He probably thought I was too busy having fun. Which wasn’t wrong, but…that wasn’t the problem.”