Taking Chances (29 page)

“The guy over there,” she said, pointing to the room across from us. “I've been coming here for about a week now. He's always helping someone. I'm pretty sure he works here, which is even better,” she said. “It gives us something to look at. He's too damn hot not to look.”

I stared back at him. Yeah, he was seriously hot. No doubt about that. “So you've only been coming here a week?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Yep.
So far I've accomplished a week. We'll see how long it lasts. I made it three days the first time, so I've already beaten my previous goal. I'm on a roll,” she snickered. “What about you? I don't think I've seen you around.”

“Oh, except for the day I signed up three months ago, this is my first visit. A particularly good one at that,” I said, peeping over at the mystery guy again.

“Well, my goal is to come during the week after work, so if you come about the same time, we can chat. I hear it helps to have a workout buddy. If I know you're coming, it will make me feel obligated to come too.”

“That sounds like a great idea. I don't really know anyone around town except my students, and hanging out with a bunch of ten-year-olds isn't much fun. I appreciate any adult conversations in my life after spending most my time with them.”

“Ahh, you're a teacher?”

“Yep.”

“And look... you still have all your hair!” She laughed, “You haven't been teaching long, I take it?”

I touched my hands to my hair, as if to make sure it was still there. Grinning, I said, “Yeah, it's still there, but I don't know for how long. School's only been in session for a month, and some days, I feel like I'm going to pull it all out.”

“I know what you mean,” she said, “I've been teaching high school kids for three years now. Some days, I'm surprised I haven't been committed to a mental institution yet.”

“Really?
That bad? Where do you teach? I don't know many of the teachers here yet. Most are older. They're friendly, but busy. Sometimes they seem a little too busy to bother talking to me.”

She nodded her head. “I know how the new teacher thing is. Most teachers have known each other for a long time. There's a bonding that forms throughout the year. It may take a little time, but you'll get pulled into the pack. I teach over at Maplewood High.
You?”

“Maplewood Elementary.”
I was shocked to meet someone so similar to myself. And out of all the places, at the gym.

“That's very cool. We'll have to plan on doing this more often. I've got a few years' experience under my belt. I can tell you all sorts of horror stories.”

Something told me I didn't want to know. I always wanted to be a teacher for as long as I could remember. It was a game I used to play with my brother when I was kid. I was the teacher handing out all the homework, and grading papers. As I got older, and entered high school, I started volunteering at the elementary school, tutoring the kids, and soon realized it was all I wanted to do. I loved being with them, helping them achieve the smallest of tasks. It probably wasn't in my best interest to hear her stories.

“Oh, I don't know if that is such a good idea, seeing how it's my first year. I may need to skip those stories and let you fill me on the light-hearted ones.”

“Sure, I've got a bunch of those too. It’s the most rewarding job I’ve ever had, but you will have those days that make you question why the crap you’ve chosen teaching as a career.” The woman looked at her watch and turned the machine off, then stood still on top of the treadmill. “First year, huh?”

“Yep.
I got lucky with the position though. They needed someone last minute to fill in for about six months. The teacher whose spot I took had some kind of medical emergency. I'm not sure what I'll do when she's ready to come back. Hopefully, they'll keep me on, or maybe I can find another opening somewhere else. If not, I'll have to move back to Canyon Falls with my parents.”

“At least you've got somewhere to go.”

“Yeah.” And she was right; I did have somewhere to go. Whether I
would
go was the question. Then again, being homeless wasn’t out of the question.

She hopped off the treadmill. “Well, I better get going. I've still got papers to grade before my dinner date.”

“Ohh, are you giving up on Mr. Scrumptious over there?”

She giggled. “Ha! Someone like that wouldn't go for something like this,” she said pointing at herself. “
Which is why I'll be here every day from now on. You'd probably be more his type than I would anyway,” she winked. “Besides, I'm sure there are about ten other guys that I can drool over while I do my time on the treadmill.”

I laughed, “Don't kid yourself, you look just fine”. She wasn't toothpick-thin, but healthy looking with a bit of meat on her bones. I figured it was her short height that made her look a bit bigger than she really was. “Name's Lilly,” I said holding my hand out to her, “maybe we'll catch each other in here again. Then we can drool together.”

She laughed and shook my hand. “I'm Andrea. And absolutely! I'll be here tomorrow, about four-thirty, after class. If you're here, find me. It's always nice to kill time. Makes working out not so bad.”

With that, she walked away. If felt nice to finally talk to someone my own age. Not that the older women I worked with were hard to talk to, but there's something about having someone you can relate to. Andrea was right about one thing, time did pass faster when you didn't realize the work you were putting your body though. I might have only been walking, but when you don't do it every day, you still get tired. I hopped off the treadmill and decided to change and shower when I got home, instead of using the gym's facilities.

Walking to my car, I breathed in the hot air and it made me thankful I decided to come to the gym instead of enduring the heat to exercise at the apartment track. Passing several rows of cars, I finally found my own. “Damn it!” I said out loud. I kicked the flat tire on my run-down Toyota Corolla. The last time it happened, I was getting ready to move here. Thankfully, my parents owned the best of everything and knew everyone in town, so I didn't have to worry about how or when I'd get my car fixed. Car parts were expensive, and I couldn't afford them on my own, especially if I needed major work done. Mom wanted to buy me a new car before I left home, but I refused. Not that my refusal did much good. I compromised by letting her buy the parts instead.

Theoretically, I'd seen it done several times, but watching someone change a tire didn't give me any confidence. After pulling the jack parts out of my trunk, I put the wrench on the lug nut and twisted the wrench to crack the seal, but it wouldn't budge. I tried standing up and pressing down, in hopes of getting a better angle on it, but nothing. Not even pushing it down with
my foot did any good.

“Excuse me, ma'am?”

I nearly fell over backward hearing someone's voice behind me.

“Oh sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. You need to use the jack first, or all that work you're doing will be for nothing”

I looked up. Holy freaking crap. It was the guy I was staring at while on the treadmill. Except now, he had changed from his tee shirt and running shorts into a pressed, collared shirt and dark navy blue jeans. His hair was wet and spiked on the top of his head. I found myself speechless as I mentally appraised his appearance. I'd have to tell Andrea if I saw her tomorrow. He looked like one of those Calvin Klein underwear models, except he had all his clothes on.

“You need some help?”

His question brought me out of my trance and I stumbled over my words. “Oh... no... no, thank you. I'd hate for you to get dirty on my account. I'll figure it out. Thank you for asking.” I took a step back and stared at the jack for a minute, trying to figure out how the damn thing worked. Apparently, they all didn't look the same, because this one looked nothing like I remembered. There was the jack itself, and then a metal rod which looked like it went... where? I had no idea.

“Let me see that,” he said with a small laugh.

Who was I kidding? Even he could tell I didn't know what the hell I was doing. I handed it to him and stepped aside. “You really don't have to do this, but I really appreciate it.”

He peered up at me and smiled, “Are you kidding? I can't walk away, knowing you need help. What kind of guy would that make me?”

“Well, I haven't met too many kind-hearted men here.” Not until very recently.

Within a few minutes, he had the flat tire off and the spare mounted. He started twisting the lug nuts back on the wheel, and I was surprised at how fast he was. With arms like
that, he could probably lift the whole damn car off the ground.

“So,” he said, standing up, “do you always stick to the treadmill when you work out?”

He grinned at me, probably because my mouth was hanging open, shocked that he noticed me at all. God. I hoped he didn't see me almost fall off the treadmill. And why was someone like him looking at me in the first place?

“Well, exercising isn't high on my list of things of favorite things to do. I'm trying to add it to the list... the bottom of the list. Usually, I stick with walking outside or something, but considering my bad experiences with that, I thought I'd give the gym a try.” I looked down at the flat, dilapidated tire lying on the ground. “It seems like I have bad luck wherever I go.”

“Oh I don't know about that... you're talking to me. That's never bad.”

I was surprised at his cocky comment, but couldn’t help my grin when he smiled at me. His teeth were bright white, a perfect smile with matching dimples on both sides of his cheeks.
Yeah, sure, I could overlook that last comment. Dusting his hands off, he placed the jack and tire iron back in the trunk of my car.

“I'd get a new tire put on as soon as you can. It's never good to ride too long on the spare.”

“Definitely. Well, thanks so much for your help. You saved me a lot of money not having to call a tow truck. I appreciate it.” I held out my hand to shake his. “I'm Lilly, by the way.”

He took my hand, squeezing it lightly. “It was no problem. I'm glad I was able to help. And my name is Tyler. I'm a personal trainer here, so I'm sure we’ll run into each other again... if I'm lucky.”

I could feel my cheeks heating up. Was he flirting with me? “I'll definitely be back. It's a very appealing gym.”

“Yes, it is,” he said, walking backwards as he talked. “One thing though... you may want to avoid the treadmill, especially if you’re trying to work on them. They seem a little
too dangerous for you.” He winked and turned away.

I remained cemented to the pavement.
Great. Now another guy thinks I'm an idiot. This week just keeps getting better and better.

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About the Author

Loni
Flowers lives in Elm City, North Carolina with her video-gaming husband, who makes her laugh everyday; two wild toddlers, who never slow down for a second; and three couch-potato dogs, who only raise an eye when foods around. She works a full-time professional job and when she's not playing on the internet or chatting on Twitter, she spends her free time with friends and family waiting for the next big idea strike. Taking Chances is her first novel.

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