Jules smiles at me, a tiny smirk on her lips. “Well, welcome to the Wrecked family, Elijah. We’re rarely straight or entirely sane, but we do take care of our own. So, you’ll fit right in.”
Warmth suffuses my entire body, down to my marrow. Damn, who knew I needed those words? “That means a lot, Jules. It’s been an adventure.”
With that, Jules goes back to the scaffold wall and starts an impressive set of pull-ups.
Nick scans my body, I suppose, for injury. “Why aren’t you wearing any shoes?”
My cheeks flame. “I’m, um, breaking in my boots by walking to work in them, and had just taken them off when I heard a scuffle from the locker room.”
His eyes hold amusement and knowing, like he understands that the boots make me feel awesome when I wear them. I’m hoping he’s not a true mind reader, because the boots have started appearing in some of my regular sex dreams. Especially the ones that star him.
I snort to myself.As if I have any other kind of sex dream these days.
Nick puzzles over my internal monologue (Shit, that was internal, right? Right. Okay.), then continues on with his thought. “Well, I’m glad you were around. My sister is a quiet person, and it’s just… far too many cishet guys are shitty to women, especially trans women.”
I sit down on a bench and begin lacing up the tennis shoes, hoping the half boner I popped after thirty seconds of conversation with my boss will calm the fuck down. “Just glad I was in the right place at the right time. But I’ll keep an eye out for it. Even if someone doesn’t look like, well, you, they should still feel welcome here. This should feel like a supportive space, not a place where people go to judge each other. Maybe I’m wrong about that—maybe being a physically intimidating person is part of the marketing, or whatever—but I don’t want any part of that side of it.”
His knowing smirk is starting to annoy me. “I doubt that anyone finds me intimidating.”
I raise my eyebrow at him, finish tying my shoes, and go on about my day. Yeah, no way am I taking that one on.
* * *
Nick
Damn, watching Elijah take care of my sister is, not surprisingly, yet-and-still another turn-on from this man. Fuck, he’s so goddamned vulnerable and strong and… sexy. And I know he doesn’t get it. First of all, he does have a good point. This gym is full of really, really ripped dudes, many of them taller and broader than even me, and while that’s a lot of fun to look at, it’s easy to be intimidated and think that you come out on the wrong end of a comparison. I’m hoping his new programs will help to make people more comfortable here.
I walk over and check in again with Jules, who just finished off twenty pull-ups like it was nothing. I don’t need to, but I want to make sure she’s doing okay. “I’m so sorry that the big guy put his hands on you.”
“Thanks, broseph,” she says with a grin. “But I promise, just as soon as he started getting loud, Elijah was there and put himself between me and him. And, you know, I can usually handle myself, but that guy was huge. I really thought he was going to break my arm, but then Mr. Hero comes in, and… I mean, he’s my size, but I really think he might’ve been able to take him down. Did you see the way he was standing? Almost looked like…”
My eyes widen. “Krav Maga, right? He was in the Army. Must’ve been part of their self-defense training.”
“Exactly! I did some close-combat training in the Marines, but I don’t know what they do for self-defense in the Army.” She’s thoughtful as she unwraps her hands.
“I’m pretty sure it had to be extensive. I mean, he was infantry. He’s definitely seen action.”
She walks over to the open mat area and drops to do some body weight exercises. “I wonder… why don’t you ever do self-defense classes? I mean, if anyone knows self-defense, it’s got to be a Navy SEAL, right?”
I shrug. “I dunno. I guess I assume that ex-military folks know how to defend themselves.”
“I’d love some self-defense classes. I mean, the training I had in the Marines was over two years ago. Could definitely use a refresher.”
That’s actually a good point. I check out Elijah, who’s helping Benning do squats on his prosthetics. He’s still too damned skinny, but maybe he’s more just wiry. Benning isn’t good at balancing into a squat, and Elijah’s got a firm grip on him, like he’s supporting the entire weight of him at a moment’s notice. My mind wanders off the path, and I think about what it would feel like to have Elijah help me with the heavy burdens I carry around in my fucked-up head. I imagine him putting his hand to my chest…
Ack. I shake myself out of my reverie and refocus on Jules, who is grinning like a loon.
“Oh, shit. You like him. Youlike him, like him,” Jules says under her breath, looking between Elijah and me.
I can feel the tips of my ears heat as I grind my jaw, wondering if every single woman in my family is a fucking empath. My eyes automatically track to Elijah, and he’s just stopped Benning from tipping over, and is being kind without being cloying or insincere. Vulnerable, but not weak. I just want to wrap him up in—
Jules gasps, putting her hand to her mouth. “You do! Oh my god, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look at someone that way.”
I quickly make sure Elijah hasn’t heard anything. “Ssshhhhh.Shut up, Jules.”
Her smile explodes across her face, and she practically scream-whispers, “I’m so happy for you, bro!”
I narrow my eyes at her and shake my head. “No.”
