He shrugs. “Too bad. Go change into some gym clothes. We’re going to the gym in the building.”
My head juts forward, eyes narrowing. “Um, I can’t go to the gym. What about Eli?”
“We’re taking her with us. We can put her in the car seat. If she gets upset, I’ll hold her. You need to get some of this adrenaline out of you. It’ll help you. Trust me.”
It sounds like he’s talking from experience. Although I still feel like I should protest, the idea of running and lifting appealing, just to rid my body of the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I might actually get some sleep tonight if I do.
“Fine,” I groan and stomp into my bedroom.
As I pull my shirt over my head, I hear Colton in the other room. “Do we need to pack a bottle or something for her?”
I throw on my gym shirt, then shorts and walk back out of the room. “No, she just ate. I’ll just grab the diaper bag.”
After I throw on my tennis shoes and move Eli to the stroller, we head out the door and into the elevator. She is squirming and scrunching, but as the stroller moves, it seems to settle her back down. I don’t think she’ll last long, nor do I see Colton really holding her, but fuck it. I’d rather not argue with him. I don’t have the energy for that.
The gym is empty, not surprising since it’s five o’clock on a Saturday. I park the stroller in the center of the room. Colton pats my back and motions for me to follow him. We each step onto a treadmill.
“Let’s do some sprints,” he says.
We both hit the number four and walk for a couple of minutes to warm up. He doesn’t try to talk, and I wonder if he’s figuring out in his head what he wants to say.
“All right, here we go.” He interrupts my thoughts. “We’ll work our way up. Sprint at eight for sixty seconds. On the count of three. One. Two. Three.”
The first round doesn’t get my heart rate up that much. He makes us do another four rounds with a minute walk in between. Then he pushes us up to a ten four times before moving to twelve. By the time we’re done, I’m pouring sweat and gasping to catch my breath.
I press Stop and lean my hands on the rails of the treadmill in an effort to recover.
“Nice work. How do you feel?” he asks.
“It’s … been … a minute … since I’ve worked out,” I respond in breaths as I motion to Eli still sleeping in the middle of the room.
He smiles. “Yeah, you’ve been a little busy.”
I follow him over to the bench, where he starts to rack the barbell with weights.
“Are you settling into fatherhood now?”
I place my hands on my hips. “I still don’t know what I’m doing half the time. It feels like I’m on an island with no one to talk to.”
“If you ever need advice, I’m only a phone call away.”
I turn my head to the side with confusion.
“I’m a doctor. I may be in oncology now, but I made my rounds during residency. I saw a lot of infants.”
“Ah.” I nod in response. “I honestly never even thought of that. I’ll keep it in mind. I’m sure I’ll be a basket case when she gets sick for the first time.”
“It’s scary when it’s little ones. They can’t tell you what’s wrong. You can feel helpless in the beginning.”
We take turns doing sets of six presses. My arms and chest scream at me all throughout the process in the best way. It’s exactly what I need.
Just as we move over to the dumbbells, Eli starts to whimper softly in the stroller. I turn to move toward her, but he puts his hand up.
“Not so fast. I said I’ll hold her. You give me three sets of ten hammer curls.”
His directness makes me laugh.
“Yes, sir.”
