Page 47 of Ten Rules for Faking It
“Yet you’re still sitting in the car.” She looked through the windshield at the quaint, rectangular building. She’d watched several people go in and out. The kickboxing class she’d lookedup online, one of the ones recommended by the listeners, started in ten minutes. Everly was intrigued by the idea of kicking and punching a heavy bag as a way to expel stress. Every woman wanted to be able to go a little Black Widow now and again. Black Widow kicked some serious ass and probably never sat in her vehicle wondering if she should go for it. “Consider it work. This way you can verify whether or not this place is as great as their ads say.”
That bolstered her courage a bit, enough to get her out of the car and into the gym. It was different from how she’d expected… more sedate, with less spandex and fewer mirrors. A woman dressed in athletic wear similar to her own—yoga pants and a tank top—greeted her with an easy smile. Her red hair was pulled into a side braid, and she didn’tlooklike she lived and breathed weight training.See? Not so intimidating.
“Welcome. Are you joining us for a class tonight?”
As she walked toward the reception desk, some of her unease loosened. “I am. I haven’t been before. I was hoping to drop in on the kickboxing.”
The woman typed something into the computer. “Awesome. I’m Misha. That’s one of my favorite classes. The instructor is great for all levels.”
Misha asked a few questions, charged a reasonable amount, and led Everly through a state-of-the-art fitness center. It was busy with people on treadmills, ellipticals, and other machines. Everly kept her gaze on the receptionist’s back so she didn’t accidentally lock eyes with anyone. One night. Forty-five minutes of cardio. She could handle that in a roomful of strangers who would never see her again.Unless you love it—then you could be a regular; you could get a membership.An image of herself as Black Widow kicking ass popped into her overactive brain. It made her smile. One step at a time. Music buzzed quietly through ceiling speakers, and the news played on low from a television in the corner. There were rooms off the central fitness area with blackened windows, which increased her comfortlevel. Everything was better when people weren’t staring. Misha stopped in front of one of the far rooms, and Everly heard conversations coming from within. Laughter rang out, and different music played.You can do this.She felt like she was getting her cardio just by showing up and getting to the right room.
“Did you want me to introduce you to Rob, the instructor?” Misha smiled at her.
“No, thank you. I’ll just find a spot at the back.”
When Misha left, Everly continued standing just outside the room, pressing her fingers into her thigh. Things that could go wrong: She could fall flat on her face, she could kick someone, someone could kick her, she could get a concussion, she could sweat right through her clothing.Way to think positive.Okay. She could do positive. If she did sweat through her shirt, it wasn’t white, so there was that. She could pick up some cool moves and feel more confident when she was walking alone. If she sucked or made a fool of herself, no one would know.
“Everly?”
She spun around, her heart jumping into her throat. Chris stood before her dressed in athletic shorts and a plain gray T-shirt that hugged his chest and revealed surprisingly sculpted arms. His hair was a little sweaty at the sides, making it look darker, and he was breathing faster than normal.
Her tongue worked itself into a knot.
Chris leaned in, and Everly caught the hint of sweat mingled in with his regular scent.That should be gross. Sweat is gross.Only he didn’t look or smell gross. Nerve endings went haywire along her skin, surprising her into stepping back.
“What are you doing here?” Chris’s eyes roamed over her once, then locked on her own.
Find your words. Hello, tongue? Now would be an excellent time to remember how to speak.The music in the room behind them swelled, pumping out a heavy beat. It matched what her heart was doing in her chest.
“Do you usually work out here?” A slight smile tilted hislips, and his gaze softened, narrowed so it was like she was all he could see.
She shook her head. “Kickboxing. I’m going to try it.”Awesome job, Yoda. You can speak.
Chris looked around her into the room and lifted his hand. Who was he waving at? Didhework out here regularly? The shape of his chest and arms suggested this wasn’thisfirst time in such a place. He focused on her again. “Is there a reason?”
She forced her eyes upward. “Pardon?” Why was her mouth so dry?
He arched a brow. She didn’t blame him. Her inability to string words together was brow-lift-worthy.
“Kickboxing. You just trying it for fun or… do you feel like you need a way to defend yourself for a particular reason?”
Her pulse settled at the light undercurrent of worry in his voice. Her heart quivered once and then settled to an acceptable pace. She waved her hands, dismissing the notion. “No. Not at all. I… well, I… I’m just trying something new. We always offer passes to this place, so I thought I’d give it a go.” She probably looked completely out of place.Don’t think like that. I could be a kickboxer. Show some damn spine, Everly. Look like you belong. Be bold.
She straightened her back, squared her shoulders. “I should get in there. I don’t want to miss anything.”
Not waiting for a reply, she went in and was happy to see there were only a half dozen other people, not including the instructor.
“Welcome. Come on in,” the tall, dark-haired guy greeted. He had pretty big muscles, but Everly wouldn’t call thembulging.He didn’t look like he made odd, creepy noises when he lifted weights.See? You always imagine it will be worse than it is.“Okay, everyone, welcome to kickboxing. I’m your instructor, Rob. I see a couple of new faces. Don’t be shy. Don’t be hesitant. This will be a combination of cardio and strength building. We’ll do some stretches to start, go through a few standard moves, and then we’ll break into partners.”
Everly’s heart clutched. She’d have to partner with the instructor. It was gym class all over again. Last girl standing partnered with the teacher because no one else wanted to join up. She tapped her fingers against her thigh and inhaled deeply. Her breath caught on a familiar scent, and she turned her head when someone stepped close to her side, shoulder brushing hers.
“What are you doing?” she whispered to Chris, relief that it was him pumping through her blood.
“Kickboxing. Thought I’d give it a try.” He grinned at her and then turned his head, waving back to the instructor, who was waving at him.
Her stomach pitched like a boat caught in the rapids.You can do this. Pretend he’s Stacey.She side-eyed him. They talked every day now, in person or via text. Sometimes on the phone. They were officially friends.Friends don’t sweat in front of friends.This was supposed to be easy. Try something new.
Chris’s baby finger brushed against hers, and a spark shot through her like a jolt of electricity restarting an engine. “Breathe,” he whispered.
