I shoot him a glare. “Fine. It’s your funeral.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m pretty sure Jaxon wishes he were dead. Not because he’s the only man doing the workout with us, but because I convinced the teacher to change from our normal strength training to a HIIT class. And Jaxon is struggling.
Apparently, those muscles are just for show.
Not that I’m noticing his very toned shoulders. Or thighs. Or…hiney.
Damn it. I’m not sure how I ended up in the spot behind him, but I feel I should let The Hague know there is a new type of torture they should be keeping an eye out for.
“Doing okay there?” I ask as we break for water, unable to hide my smirk.
He stops drinking for long enough to smile back at me. “I was working out twice a day before I left home. How is Lucille keeping up better than I am?” he asks, referring to the seventy-four-year-old woman who’s in the spot next to him.
“Lucille is tougher than you,” I say as if it’s the obvious answer.
“I clearly need to up my cardio game.”
“Clearly.”
We both sip on our water, terrified that if we look ready to go, the teacher will make us start again.
“Remember the summer between our freshman and sophomore years?” Jaxon asks, shifting his hip to the side and stretching his glute. “When you decided lifting every morning like the rest of the girls on the volleyball team wasn’t going to be enough to get you that starting spot you so desperately wanted? So we decided we needed to add agility drills?” He laughs at the memory; one I haven’t thought of in a long time.
“And I tripped over the ladder the first day and sprained my ankle?” I ask, reaching out and shoving his upper arm. I quickly pull my hand away as if it’s on fire. Because maybe it is. Or maybe it’s sprained after making contact with the man’s boulder of a shoulder.
Jaxon seems unfazed by the gesture though. “Yeah, but you still insisted on lifting every day. You’d crutch in here and then hobble around; adamant you do everything you could without your legs.”
“My mom was so pissed,” I say, remembering how she’d all but banned me from coming. “Until you promised her you’d bring every weight to me so I wouldn’t be walking around without my crutches.” Catching myself smiling at him, I look away. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t get anything done except changing out my dumbbells for me.”
He shrugs. “It was worth it.”
“Right,” I say. “I’m sure.”
“Hey, we got you that starting spot, that’s all that mattered.”
The tough thing is, I believe him.
“Okay, everybody!” the teacher says, her long, blonde ponytail swaying as she makes her way back to the front of the class. “Back in your spots. Time for round two of cardio. Then we’ll hit some core before we call it a night.”
“Good luck out there,” I say as I set my water bottle down, ready to see Jaxon sweat.
Chapter ten
Jaxon
“Didyouhearfromthe lawyers about the farm sale?” I ask Andre, my feet glued in place rather than moving down the stairs like they’re supposed to. I have to leave in five minutes if I’m going to have a chance at beating Izzy to her office after the lunch I know she has today, which is necessary if I’m going to be able to complete item number five on my list—the sticky note bomb.
“I did. It’s all set for the end of June. So, in just over five weeks,” Andre replies like the helpful assistant he is.
“Great,” I reply. The farm was always the most important thing in my father’s life. Even though he always resented my presence in his life, as his only child, he felt it was my duty to the family to run the farm someday. Having it sold will finally cut the last strings holding me to this place, to my dad. The last ties holding me down, even all these years later.
“A realtor is stopping by the house this afternoon. She’s going to coordinate the company to clear all the personal items out.”
“About that,” I say. “I may not have gotten to my dad’s room.”
There’s a pause on the other end, and I’ve worked with Andre long enough to know that it means he’s trying to remind himself I’m his boss, and he should be professional.
“So…just so we’re on the same page here, you didn’t have time to go through your dad’s room to make sure you weren’t about to trash anything of your mom’s that you wanted to keep…and you didn’t write any music.”
