Page 48 of My High School Rebel Boyfriend
“He’s not so skinny now,” I said, smiling, “I hope he can help me get stronger too.”
“We can probably use the weight room at school,” Mitchell said, picking my bag up for me. “Come on.”
“Start her on two sets,” Wade growled, making Mitchell stop. “Just for the first week. And reps of fifteen. Volleyball, yeah?” He stood and went over to a machine, signaling me to follow. “Sit here,” he directed, “feet under the roller.” He adjusted something down by my shoes. “You need strength in your legs before you can train power.” He turned to Mitchell. “Get her working her quads, hammies and calves.” I wasn’t sure of the terminology, suddenly scared I was locked in a torture device. He snapped a bar across my knees and I feared that my good intentions were entirely fruitless. I’d tried to be nice in the hope that he’d be nice to Mitchell, but now he was now going to beat both of us to a pulp. How stupid I’d been, thinking that communicating with thisman, showing kindness, friendliness was going to eradicate a lifetime of abuse for Mitchell. I was delusional.
“Lift.” His default setting was loud and commanding.
“Wh-at?” I stuttered.
“Lift,” Mitchell repeated, though kinder. “Your legs.”
I attempted to move them, but nothing happened. Wade had somehow paralyzed me, they both had. I was trapped in this machine, my legs rendered useless.
Then Mitchell tilted his head and winced. “Dad, I don’t think she’s gonna lift two hundred pounds.”
“What’d you say?” Wade’s eyes narrowed.
Mitchell pointed at the weights. “Uh, she ain’t gonna lift two hundred pounds.”
Wade noted his error, but his expression indicated that he didn’t have hearing problems, no, he seemed stunned that Mitchell had called him Dad.
“Yeah, that might be a little out of your range, sweetheart,” Wade said, moving the pin on the weight stack. The two of them roared with laughter. I didn’t care that it was at my expense, in fact the sound was music to my ears. “Let’s try twenty pounds. Don’t wanna break your legs.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that,” I deadpanned. Mitchell and Wade kept laughing.
“I’ll put that down in the notebook. Leg extension, failed at 200 pounds,” Mitchell said.
I gave him my best eye roll, but he teased me with pouty lips.
So, yeah, Wade supervised my first weight training with Mitchell recording everything in the notebook.
And now, this is my fourth workout. And Wade is in on it again.
“I brought brownies,” I say, waving the container at Wade.
“Bribery? You think I’ll go easy on you?” There’s still a gruffness to him, but it’s not so scary anymore.
“Maybe,” I say, “they’re salted caramel.”
“Hmmph! Mitch tell you they’re my favorite?”
“Did I hear salted caramel?” Rose appears behind Wade, leaning on her cane. “Hi beautiful, how are you?”
“I’m good, thanks,” I say, “And you?”
“Yes, I feel good today. No, I’m great!”
“Are you joining us, Ma?” Mitchell puts his arm around me, a caress sending tingles down my spine.
“I’ll come in for a little bit,” she smiles at us, her gaze misty-eyed. “But I don’t wanna get in your way.” She places a hand on Wade’s shoulder. “Aren’t they cute together, baby?”
Wade scoffs—I’m guessing cute isn’t in his vocabulary—but his mumbled response surprises me. “Yeah, yeah, just don’t go planning any weddings yet.”
My cheeks blush as Rose raises her eyebrows and exaggerates a silly smile, an expression Mom used a lot around Ryann and Tim. It’s like all mothers want to be grandmothers.
“Maaaaa...” Embarrassed, Mitchell nuzzles his face into my hair.
It’s a moment of perfection.
