Page 17 of Paradise in Progress
“He’s the enemy, Liv. I’m not secretly pining for him.” I pull open the door to my gym, and I’m hit with the sound of clinking weights and the smell of bleach cleaners. “I’m at the gym. Talk to you later?”
“I’m not saying you’re pining for him, by the way. I’m just saying, a little romp in the sheets might not be a bad thing,” she says. “But we can discuss this later. Have a good workout class.”
She ends the call before I have a chance to argue. Staring down at the blank screen, I shake my head in disbelief. I make my way to the women’s locker room, where I quickly change into an asymmetrical navy longline sports bra and matching leggings. Strapping my shoes on my feet, I grab my water bottle before I lock my locker and head to the workout studio.
The lights are dim as I walk in, and a popular pop song plays through the speakers. Making my way down the line of cycling bikes, I find an empty one in the middle of the room. I’m not a fan of being in the front, but I also don’t enjoy being in the back. Others funnel in, and bikes are quickly occupied, leaving only a few empty. I’m in the middle of doing a few breathing exercises when a familiar tingle rolls over my spine and my senses are consumed with cedar and citrus.
Glancing to my left, I’m met with amber eyes and a familiar smirk that shows off that damn dimple. “Firecracker,” his deep voice rumbles through my body.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I hiss. As much as I need this workout, I need to be away from Tristan more.
My phone call and cycle class were supposed to be enough to get the stunt Tristan pulled out of my mind. During our meeting, I tried like hell to avoid looking at him and letting him affect me. I kept my focus on Xander, but Tristan wouldn’t shut the fuck up. He keptinterrupting my ideas and trying to shut down everything I suggested with his passive-aggressive banter. It’s like it’s in his job description to make my life a living hell. And here he is, after office hours, when it’smy time.
He turns his head, looking to his left and behind him, before turning back to me. “I thought this was a cycling studio.”
Clenching my jaw, I mentally cross my fingers that the scream threatening to explode from me stays in until I’m home and my face is buried in a pillow. I lean forward to unclip my feet from the pedals, but before I can even touch them, the music changes, and the instructor comes running in.
“What’s up, Cycle Craze?” Her loud, energetic voice comes through the speakers, and I realize that I’m too late to leave the class. Besides, Kenzie is my favorite instructor, and I really don’t want to miss out on a chance to take her class. She’s become popular over the last couple of weeks, and while I’m excited for her, it means her classes book up quicker.
With one last drink, I toss my water bottle down and focus on Kenzie. She’s chugging an iced coffee as she adjusts her headset.
“Try to keep up, Firecracker.”
Glaring at my nemesis on the bike beside me, Tristan tilts his head back and forth, cracking the muscles in his neck. Kenzie switches her music on, and a hip-hop song plays through the speakers, instantly putting me in the mood to climb these hills she’ll no doubt force us to endure in tonight’s class.
My legs are screaming at me as Kenzie encourages us to push our cadence from one hundred to one-hundred-ten while increasing our resistance by five. Sweat rolls down my face, down my cleavage andback, no doubt casting this navy workout set in a darker shade. Typically, I try to stay at the cadence and resistance the instructor calls out, but there are some days when my legs refuse to cooperate.
Today feels like one of those days, but I’ll be damned if I let Tristan Nelson outride me. Peeking out of the corner of my eye, I see that he’s just as saturated in sweat as I am. I’ll never understand how these instructors can not only ride the hell out of their bikes, but they do it while freaking talking during the whole class. Kenzie has been belting out the lyrics to the rap songs she’s selected on her playlistwhiledancing along. I’m barely able to breathe, and here she is, exerting even more energy. She’s seriously such a badass.
“Keep crushing it, Craze!” she encourages from the front of the room. “Ten more seconds, and we’ll start our descent.”
Thank God!
Very slowly, Kenzie calls out for us to lower the resistance as we recover.
The music changes to a slower-paced song as Kenzie reaches for her water bottle and the rest of the class follows her lead. There’s no question when I unclip from this bike that my legs are going to be Jell-O, and I’m going to have to try my hardest to stay upright. I knew coming to Cycle Craze would be the distraction I needed from Nelson’s, even though Tristan is beside me. I used his presence as motivation, but at some point during our ride, I completely forgot he was there and let my mind escape. Kenzie’s motivational stories and high energy led me on a journey and, suddenly, thoughts of designs and permits were no longer at the forefront of my mind.
“Before we end class, I want everyone up out of the saddle with their left leg in the back. Let’s stretch out those muscles we worked.Don’t forget to head out to the main room, or even the small space between bikes, and do a longer stretch. Today’s ride was tough, but we’re tougher for it.”
Following her lead, I lean forward, allowing the calf muscles down to my Achilles to stretch out. Switching sides, we all sigh in relief. “Great work today, everyone. Let’s take a deep inhale and remember stronger rides today—exhale—lead to unstoppable victories tomorrow! Have a great rest of your night!”
And with those final remarks, we follow her instructions on how to unclip our shoes and dismount our bikes.
“Nice work, Firecracker,” Tristan’s exasperated voice says. He gathers a towel, swiping it down his face. His stupid, perfect face doesn't even look like he just spent the last forty-five minutes in a cycle class.
Reaching for my water bottle, I take a long pull as the cold liquid slides down my throat. “Keep up good enough for you?”
He smirks. “Surprisingly, yeah, you did.”
With an eye roll and shake of the head, I take a step away from the bike and feel my body sway. Strong arms catch me. “You okay, Ken?”
My eyes blink rapidly as I focus on his voice. “Ye-yeah, I’m fine. Just a little light-headed.”
“Have you eaten anything recently?” His deep tone is full of concern as I shake my head, and he steers me to the side of the room. “Here, sit down for a second.”
My body feels too weak to protest, and I hate that he gets to witness my weakness, especially after how hard I worked in this class. People pass us, and I don’t miss their curious glances.
Kenzie makes her way over to where I’m sitting, and I watch as she drops down until we are at eye level. “Hey, you doing okay?”
