Page 12 of Waiting For Ever
While I finish my workout with a few cool down minutes of cardio, mytrainerinsisted on it, he takes a quick shower in the men’s locker room. I didn’t bring a change of clothes, not knowing what to expect. Julian apologized for not suggesting it. Afterwards, he drops me at Allie’s to shower and change for a full day at the café.
“I’ll get things opened up and see you there,” he tells me as I hop out of the passenger seat.
I tell him I’ll be there in fifteen. I envision a quick sprint to Brew, but as I shower, dress and wolf a quick breakfast, my leg muscles get tighter and tighter. I expected to be sore. I didn’t expect my legs to shake just trying to sit down on the toilet. I ride my ebike to Brew instead, grateful it does the heavy lifting for me. Another reason to research getting my own car again as soon as possible. I just don’t know how I’ll afford it. A problem for another day.
Julian is outside when I get there, taking out patio furniture, cushions and umbrellas from the storage garage. I park my bike near the café door and trek over to help on ever stiffening legs. I force myself to walk normally even though it costs me. Hiding my grimace, I toss my chin up and lift one hand over my head in greeting.
“I got a lot of the furniture set up already.” He motions to the array of tables, chairs and loungers. “If you want, you can take the cushions and set them up as I place the seats. We’ll do the umbrellas last.”
I jump at the chance to do the light lifting. After a few hours of setting up, I can’t hide my limping anymore. I’ve been up and down the stairs more times than I can count, so both legs are so tight, I can barely walk without wincing. As I lift the last umbrella to place it in the holder in the center of the table, Julian appears and takes it from my hands.
“Let’s call it good for today. I have a couple loads of sand coming for the beach area tomorrow morning at seven a.m. We can finish up the rest then. Now tell me about the legs.”
“Legs?”
“Yeah. You’re limping. Did we go too hard at the gym? Too heavy? Break it down for me.” He holds up his hand palm out as I start to shake my head. “If I’m going to train you, I’ve got to know how it’s really going, so I can adjust as needed. In case you planned to play tough and lie to me.” The last was said with a wink that made my heart flutter and my cheeks flush.
“Ummm, okay they hurt. Like hell. It didn’t feel like too much or too heavy at the time, so I don’t know what to adjust. But if I weren’t too proud, I’d cry. Is that truthful enough for you? I see why people hate their trainers.”
His dimples pop out with my last words. “It’s probably just a flexibility thing. Meaning we need to have you stretch more. What if we laid off the weights and did more kickboxing and movement type stuff? And don’t worry, I’ve got a good trick for sore muscles. Also, how much water have you had to drink today?”
I feel like a little kid caught breaking the rules, especially when I see him roll his eyes at my answer. “I, uh, left my water bottle on the counter at home. Full.” I hold my hands out to my sides, palms up. “I had good intentions.” The last I say like I’m pleading my case to get out of trouble, and I hate that it comes out like that.
He turns and lifts his water bottle off the table and hands it to me. “Finish this and follow me. We’ll get you some immediate relief. Tonight, you can take a salt bath at Allie’s. It’ll make you feel like a new person by tomorrow. For now, let’s get you walking without limping.” He tosses his head toward the stairs leading to his place, turns and heads that way.
I follow along, dreading another round of stairs. Within three steps, my right calf seizes up. I cry out involuntarily and almost drop to my knees.
Julian already started up the stairs and stops abruptly. Turning, he stalks toward me without a word and scoops me up into his arms. Effortlessly, I might add. I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off. “Hydration 101, Ever. You’ve got a muscle cramp, right?” he scolds gently.
I clamp my lips shut and nod, silently cursing my life and the indignity. The excruciating pain trumps my humiliation. At the top of the stairs, he doesn’t put me down as I expect and instead continues past what I assume is his front door and the bay window next to it.He dips around the corner, which reveals a wraparound porch, two separate tubs side by side and a small enclosed structure I deduce is a sauna that stands along the outer wall of his apartment, just beyond French doors that open onto that part of the deck. It’s so enchanting and unexpected. Totally hidden from the public but still boasting views of the lake and sunset. In fact, it looks like he quite possibly sees the sunrise from the other side of the deck beyond the two tubs.
Caught up in the quaintness, I didn’t let go of his neck even though he set me on my feet.
His voice brings me back from my gawking. “I was thinking you could take a dip in the hot tub here and loosen up your muscles while I lock everything up. Then we can head back to Allie’s. Should take me about twenty minutes or so, which would be a perfect soak to get you . . . walking without a limp.” He chuckles on the last part. He must read the denial on my face, because he continues before I can speak up and says, “Let me grab you a towel and a robe,” turns and disappears . . . to go get them I assume, before I utter a word.
I stand there dumbfounded looking down at my cutoff denim shorts and T-shirt. He can’t expect me to wear these in the hot tub, right? As if summoned by my thoughts, he appears with a towel and robe and hangs them on the towel rack that stands between both tubs.
“I, uh . . . don’t . . . uh . . .”
“Just go in your underwear.” He notes my expression and holds up his hands in mock surrender. “I won’t look. I’ll be downstairs locking up. And you can just go commando under your clothes back to Allie’s. It will be our secret.” There was that wink again. He turns to go like none of this is a big deal.
I feel like I’m giving awkward junior high locker room energy—the last thing I want to look or feel like in front of Julian. Stamping down my insecurity, I swipe my T-shirt over my head, glance behind me to make sure he’s gone and start to unzip my shorts.
“Hey, Ever?”
I freeze. Julian calls out from around the corner, which I realize for what it is—a polite heads up.
“I forgot to lift the lid on the hot tub. If you’re still dressed, I can come do it.”
“Uh, yeah, sure,” I return loud enough to be heard around the corner. I jerk the towel off the rack and press it to my chest. I have on a sports bra, but I still feel naked.
Julian jogs around the corner, not looking at me, and rushes to the tub closest to the railing. As he lifts the lid, clouds of steam float toward the sky.
Not that it’s a good time for conversation, but curiosity has me asking, “Why two tubs?”
“Oh, the other is a cold one,” he answers like that explains everything.
Standing with the towel clenched to my chest, I can’t help myself. “Cold? For what purpose?”
