Page 42 of Going Overboard

So long as I don’t fall for ‘the bad boy of cricket’ (a concept that is still so hilarious to me) I’ll be okay. And maybe after this wedding, I really won’t ever have to see him again… I’m just going to have to see way, way more of him before that can happen.

17

I can’t believe people actually get up early and go to the gym on purpose.

Brody woke me up at 7a.m. – yes, 7a.m. – to visit the ship’s gym with him.

I told him to piss off, obviously, and rolled over to try to go back to sleep, but he reminded me that we’re a couple who do everything together, including the gym – what if someone saw him there without me, they might think there was trouble in paradise already… I wasn’t buying it but then he said that at some point I was probably going to ask him to do something he didn’t want to do, and that he wouldn’t say yes – not unless I made the same effort.

So here I am, in the gym, but as the saying goes: you can lead a girl to the gym, but you can’t make her exercise. So I’m currently sitting on an exercise bike, next to Brody, not pedalling – just using it as a chair, occasionally taking my pulse, messing with the controls for no reason other than pure boredom…

It’s strange because while it is super luxury in here – to me at least – it also looks like a torture chamber. Things with straps andweights and machines that look like they encase your body – like something nightmarish from a sci-fi movie. Or maybe I just have an unhealthy relationship with being healthy.

I find it absolutely fascinating that one of the walls is entirely covered with mirrors, so you can watch yourself working out presumably. Jesus Christ, I think if I saw myself huffing and puffing on a treadmill I would probably never want to leave the house again.

At least it’s clean and nice, the music is chill, and it’s not that busy. Obviously I would rather be in my bed, but it could always be worse.

Brody is on a mat, doing stretches which I don’t think I could do if I tried. He makes them look easy, although he does breathe heavily now and then.

‘What exactly do you get out of this?’ I ask him.

His head lifts slightly.

‘Well, my back is killing me, because someone made me sleep in a bath last night, so I’m trying to loosen it up,’ he replies.

‘No, I mean coming to the gym, generally, every day…’

He rolls onto his side, his head propped up on one hand.

‘For my job, obviously,’ he replies. ‘And because I enjoy it.’

‘But isn’t cricket the one where you just stand around?’ I check. ‘And have a tea break?’

‘Do you think we just smash packets of custard creams in the dressing rooms?’ he asks.

‘Now that sounds like fun,’ I say.

Brody gives me a look. I don’t know, I might be finally winding him up. Good, because I’m trying really hard. That’ll teach him, bringing me to a gym in the early hours.

‘You really think cricket is just standing still?’ he asks me.

‘That’s what it looks like…’

‘I’m a bowler,’ he tells me, sitting up properly now. ‘You have to be fit and strong.’

‘To chuck a ball?’ I narrow my eyes.

‘Jessa, some fast bowlers exceed ninety miles an hour – can you even imagine?’

Oh, yeah, this is definitely working.

‘Can you?’ I ask.

‘I’m medium-fast,’ he tells me.

I’ll be honest with you, I don’t really know what that means, but I have the perfect reply.

‘So, you’re telling me there’s room for improvement,’ I reason. ‘No wonder you’re in the gym every day.’

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