Weightless (5 page)

She was on all fours, but all I could see was her back right leg extending up toward the ceiling with a flexed foot as the man gently guided her knee. I watched the muscles in his arms flex as he moved, the ripples and ridges changing with each lift and fall. I had never seen muscles like that — not that close, anyway. Just the partial view of his backside had me crossing my arms tighter and wishing I would have at least tried not to look like a bum.

After another minute, the woman dropped her leg and sat back on her heels, giving the man a high five and a smile so big it made
my
cheeks hurt. Though when he stood and turned around, I completely understood why.

Suddenly, it was hard to breathe.

He threw a small white towel over his dark, damp hair, dragging it down his face slowly to wipe away the sweat he’d worked up. His arm muscles were even more defined from the front, his biceps tightening with every movement of his hand. As he pulled the towel down and around his neck, I noted his strong, tense jaw, covered with just the smallest bit of scruff. His bright green eyes were lasered in on the woman and he continued his slow assault with that damn white towel while she asked him questions. He was scowling, almost as if the towel had greatly offended him or he was contemplating a world issue and for some reason that scowl had my body feeling a heat it had never felt before.

My trainer was none other than Rhodes — Poxton Beach’s closest thing to a bad boy. Other than the fact that he was a senior when I was a freshman and he was absolutely terrifying, I really didn’t know much about him. I only had one year of roaming the same halls as him at PBHS, but that was all I needed to know it was best to keep my distance. Rhodes was a mystery to most of the town, and the fact that he would be getting up close and personal with my body in a matter of minutes set me on edge. It was like a red
DANGER
sign lighting up over and over again as I watched him closely, that same fear I’d felt toward him in school creeping up. Still, my feet wouldn’t move.

When the woman gave one last wave and walked out the door to my right, I was still standing and staring like an idiot on the other side of the glass. Rhodes dragged the towel over his face once more before lifting his shirt, revealing a sliver of tan skin as he tucked one corner of the offending white fabric beneath the band of his shorts. It was then that his eyes found mine, and for the second time in twenty-four hours, I felt a small shift in my universe.

Rhodes frowned, assessing me through the glass that was my only safety from the unfamiliar sensation I was currently experiencing. Slowly, he walked through the door and leaned against the frame, crossing his arms. “Natalie?”

I was still standing a safe distance from him, my body angled toward the glass. I nodded before finally finding my voice. “Yes. Yeah, um, yeah I’m Natalie. Natalie Poxton.” I extended my hand for his, but he just quirked a brow as he appraised it before looking back at me again, jaw set. Suddenly I felt like an idiot and I let my hand fall.

“I see. I’m Rhodes; I’ll be your trainer. Come on,” he said, moving from his leaning pose on the frame to stand straight. “Let’s get your numbers.”

I tried not to analyze what that
I see
meant as I followed him back to a small office behind the section filled with weights. It was tiny, but elegant, like only a Poxton Beach office would be. There was one desk and a matching bookshelf that held mostly files. The desk was vacant except for a white, sleek computer and a green notepad, which Rhodes picked up as soon as we entered. He gestured to a large glass scale in the back corner near the bookshelf. “Step up.”

I snapped my head toward him but he was already scribbling away in the notepad, leaving my pleading eyes to fall on the scale in front of me. But that scale wasn’t sympathetic. I swallowed, shifting. I knew it was part of the process. I
knew
that. Then again, what I
hadn’t
known was that Rhodes would be my trainer.

Cool, life. Cool.

When I didn’t move, Rhodes glanced up from his notepad and used the pen in his hand to point to the glass monster again. I sighed, shaking out my nerves the best that I could, and stepped up. I was far from excited about the number that popped up on the digital display in front of my face and even more horrified when Rhodes proceeded to calculate my body fat percentage. When he wrapped a long, blue measuring tape around my waist, hips, thighs, arms, legs, and neck, I was pretty sure my face could fry an egg I was blushing so hard. When all the poking and prodding was done, he sat behind the desk and asked me to sit on the small, dark blue cushioned chair across from him.

“So, what’s your goal?” He asked, pulling out a new file to store my information. His arms were still slightly glazed with a sheen of sweat that I couldn’t help but fixate on while I tried to think of the answer to his question.

To get my boyfriend back.

Yeah, suddenly that didn’t sound so smooth.

I fidgeted, unsure of what else to say. “I don’t know, I suppose I’m here for the same reason everyone else is,” I offered, hoping he would nod and continue on. But he didn’t. He lifted his eyes to mine, the piercing green capturing my gaze as he studied me. After a moment, he sighed and leaned back, balancing the pad on his knee.

“Okay, who is he? Who’s the guy?”

I blanched.

“What?”

“The guy. The one you’re trying to get or
for
get or whatever.” His voice was booming, but with an edgy rasp that somehow smoothed it out.

I crossed my arms, defensive. “There’s not a guy.”
Not that you need to know about, anyway.
“I’m here because
I
want to be.”

He shrugged, not fazed in the slightest by what I felt was a huge act of standing my ground. “Fine. Then what’s your goal?”

I chewed my bottom lip, working from the left side to the right and back again. It was a nervous habit I’d had my entire life, and I had to carry copious amounts of lip balm to make up for it. Rhodes’ eyes fell to my lips and I snapped my mouth shut. They stayed there for a moment longer before he found my gaze again. I had forgotten he asked me a question until he lifted a brow, waiting.

What was my goal?

“I just want to be pretty,” I finally answered, my voice just above a whisper. I had let my eyes fall to the floor, just like I did with my parents the night before, and when I lifted them to meet his again I slightly regretted it. His brows were pinched together over the bridge of his nose and he shook his head before quietly scribbling in that damn notepad of his.

I imagined he was writing something along the lines of,
“No chance. Never happening. Poor girl.”

“All right.” He stood and I followed, though I wasn’t sure what we were doing just yet. “Let’s go do your first workout. It’ll only be a twenty minute toning session today and then I’ll have you do twenty minutes of cardio. This will be your easiest day. You’re set up to train with me for two hours every day of the week except for Wednesdays and Saturdays. I’m working on your meal plan and I should have that ready by tomorrow’s session. Until then, I’ll give you the name of a fitness app to download to your phone so you can start logging your meals. Log everything, even if it’s bad. You have to be honest for this to work.” I was nodding feverishly, hanging on his every word. “You’ll weigh in once a week and we’ll take your measurements once every three weeks. Here,” he handed me a business card from a small stack behind the computer. “My cell number is on here. You can call me anytime, day or night, if you have questions about what you’re eating or anything else related to your training.”

I took the card, startling a little when our hands touched, then he was on the move. “We’ll start with legs. Do you know the proper way to do a squat?”

And I didn’t. I didn’t have the slightest clue how to properly execute a squat, a lunge, a calf-raise or anything else he showed me in that insane twenty minute session he put me through that day. But the way he looked at me, the strange way he appraised me when he thought I wouldn’t notice, had me wondering if my attention should even be on my form at all.

There had always been mystery in Rhodes’ eyes, I remembered that from when we went to school together. There was danger. There was ice. But that day, there was another element that I never expected to see.

Curiosity.

I just couldn’t figure out why.

I thought I knew what sore was, but I had no idea. Muscles I didn’t even know existed were aching, making me groan every time I had to stand up. Or sit down. Or really move in any way at all. I’d only trained with Rhodes three days but already I felt like I was dying a slow, muscle-torturing death. Even after having all of Wednesday off, I still couldn’t walk, and worst of all — I had to leave for the gym in an hour.

Might as well start drafting up my obituary.

Waddling into the kitchen, I pulled the snack-sized pack of celery out of the fridge and grabbed the jar of fat-free peanut butter I’d bought to pair with it. It wasn’t anything I really craved, but I was determined to stick to the meal plan Rhodes had designed for me. I even went shopping and meal prepped myself instead of letting our in-house chef, Christina, take care of it. Meal prepping was a new adventure for me, but Rhodes tried to make it easy and Christina helped when I asked. She had been cooking for me since I was in diapers and I think she almost took offense to the fact that I wanted to do this on my own. Still, she supported me. I was going to be leaving for college at some point in the next year — well, maybe at least — and I wanted to be able to eat without her when the time came. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but I had an entire summer off from school to focus on the habits I needed to make a lifestyle.

That’s how Rhodes had explained it — a lifestyle. He kept telling me that I wasn’t on a diet and I wasn’t on some get-skinny-quick fix, either. His goal was to help me change my lifestyle, to teach me how to live my life in a healthier way. And even though I knew my main goal was to see the look on Mason and Shay’s faces when I looked amazing in a bathing suit at the senior send-off party, I was kind of intrigued by his bigger plan. After all, it wasn’t all about Mason. It was about me. It was about my life and my future.

As I bit into my fourth stick of celery, Dale walked into the kitchen. He lifted a brow when he noted my plate and I frowned. “Don’t even go there, Dale.”

He threw his hands up and laughed a little. “I’m not saying a word. Who am I to judge if you want to eat plants?”

I stuck my tongue out and took another bite, the celery and peanut butter crunching between my teeth as he reached in the fridge for a beer. He popped it open and leaned back against the counter. Dale was tall, his hair jet black and his eyes almost the same color. When he stood next to my fair-skinned, blonde-headed mother, their differences were on full display. “In all seriousness, I’m really proud of you, Nat.”

“Thanks,” I murmured, looking down at my plate. “I don’t feel like I’m doing anything special yet. Nothing is changing.”

He chuckled. “It hasn’t even been a week. Give it time.” Taking a drag from his bottle, his smile faded and he assessed me more seriously. “You know you’re beautiful, don’t you, Natalie?” I rolled my eyes and thought about throwing a celery stick at him, but refrained. Before I could say anything, he set his bottle down on the counter and crossed his arms. “I mean it. You’re a gorgeous girl. Mason is an idiot and he should have realized that by now, regardless of the trainer.”

Dale was great at being a dad, even though he didn’t have to be. Still, I could tell he wasn’t any more comfortable handling my first break-up than I was. Dale and I were close, but we never really talked about girl stuff like that. I knew I was insecure, I knew I was dramatic, but Mom was always the one to help me through the high school insanity — not Dale. He watched me closely as I finished my last celery stick, not sure what to say back to him.

“Well I don’t see it, I guess.”

He smiled again, making the tension melt a little. “Not yet. But you will.” He grabbed his bottle and tilted it toward me in a cheers. “Have fun at the gym.”

I groaned, my muscles protesting at just the sound of the word. Dale chuckled and made his way back into the living room as I grabbed my water bottle and shoved it in my gym bag before heading out the door.

It was a beautiful May afternoon, the sun blazing high in the sky with a gentle breeze rolling in from the east coast. I knew the beach must have been absolutely packed. Rolling down the windows in Dale’s Range Rover, I tried to enjoy the weather and relax my mind as I drove the short fifteen minutes to the club. When I pulled up, Rhodes was waiting for me outside, his arms and ankles crossed as he leaned against one of the front pillars.