“I need to tone up.” I didn’t hate my size despite how much my family wanted me to, but I wanted to be stronger and a little less jiggly. The curves were fine but having more definition wouldn’t hurt.
“Not in my eyes. Not to speak on your body, but yours is…shit women going out and buying it. But you’re eating like a bird and putting your body in starvation mode for a reason so I’m sure you’re over here thinking negatively about it. The best way to change your psyche isn’t to be extreme, it’s making minorchanges that have a big impact. Muscle is smaller than fat. You know that.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I toyed with my silverware fighting a smile.
“You think niggas don’t come in doing that shit trying to make weight after taking all those months off getting fat? It’s hard as fuck to maintain your physical fitness but do you know what’s worse?”
I glanced up seeing no harshness or judgement in his eyes. “What?”
“Having to regain it after you let yourself go. I can’t imagine having to cut forty or fifty pounds like some of our guys do when it’s time for camp. Or the ones that are getting older and they have relied on their metabolism instead of discipline, and now have to rely on bullshit gimmicks to get the weight off. It’s fucked up.”
“But not you.”
“I’ve known my career has a finite amount of time. I’m not one to think that I’m going to last over eight years. Ten if I’m lucky and twelve if I can do the impossible. But nobody wants to be knocked around on their ass for years at a time. It takes its toll.”
“That’s why you have all the fancy stuff in the basement.”
“Yeah.”
“I understand. And all I can say is I’ll try to do better.”
When he reached across the table to take my hand it caught me off guard. Aldrich had never contacted me on purpose that way and I had to wonder what was up. I didn’t tense up and I guess he realized his actions didn’t bother me. His eyes were looking deep into mine as though he were trying to ensure I wasn’t offended. He gave my hands a squeeze as he watched me and now I was curious as to what he had to say.
“I’m not trying to change shit about you, but just like you checked me on my shit I gotta do the same for you. You can’t be passing out because you’re malnourished or something crazy like that.” The concern on his face surprised me but I needed to remind him I could do my job.
“I wouldn’t do that to Ami.”
He frowned and I knew I’d said something to piss him off. “This isn’t just about Ami, it’s about you, Ling. I would want you to be at your best and it’s not because of Ami. Dang, I can’t worry about you as a person?”
Aldrich’s eyes were boring too deeply into mine and I needed him to look away or blink or something. He had the type of look that would have me spilling my guts if he kept on. No one looked out for me. Not unless they’d been paid to do it. No one besides Dalton so this was in fact a novel experience.
“You can.”
He squeezed my hand before he leaned back and grinned. The remnants of our meal were spread out between us but I felt as though we were still linked. “I was going to anyway but I’m glad to have your permission.”
“I've got a request to make of you.”
I had finally plopped my body down onto one of the benches that were littered throughout the room. This was a part of the house I’d never been in and hadn’t ever had a reason to. And after today I never wanted to come back again. “A request? After you just tried to kill me?”
Aldrich wiped sweat off his face and grinned at me as he watched me try to raise my arms. He’d had me working out with him while Ami slept and while I wasn’t lifting weight anywherenear as heavy as is, I felt like my arms were going to fall off. It was crazy that I could help lift patients and I had no muscle weakness when doing tasks in the hospital, but these types of movements were killing my muscles.
“Your body will get used to it.” He did that thing again. Letting his eyes flicker up and down my frame and I felt my body get even hotter. When we’d been lifting weights and he’d been correcting my form during squats I’d almost lost my mind when he’d accidentally brushed against me.
I tried to find something else to put my eyes on but he kept drawing my eyes to him. I swallowed heavily hoping that my actions would’ve been seen as the pain from the workout instead of what they really were: lust. I was lusting after this man like anyone with two eyes and libido would but I knew better. Too bad my hormones were not getting the memo.
“None of that sounds like something I actually want to happen. Why in the world would I want to get used to feeling pain?”
He motioned for me to stand up and I did it reluctantly as he made a move to pull his body into a stretch and stared at me until I mimicked his movements. “You can’t lie and say you didn’t feel good moving your body differently. I feel you’re the type of woman who enjoys feeling capable. That translates into power in your mind, which is why you have multiple degrees.” He shifted into a calf stretch as he casually read my soul like it was an open book.
“Don’t talk about me like you know me.”
“Is that sass coming from Ms. Sterling? I see you, ma. I like that you don’t just take shit. You don’t have to be afraid to speak your mind around me. I don’t know what weird-ass situations you’ve been part of before but this ain’t that. You’re always safe here.”
I don’t know why he said that. Why he told me that I was safe. That wasn’t something I needed to hear from anyone. I didn’t need them to have that type of insight into what my deepest desires were. I was always the kid left alone or the kid left behind because I didn’t fit into the mold that had been built before my parents even knew me. Once the glamour of being lauded for reproducing wore off my parents were all too happy to return to the lives they had before me and leave me to survive with a stranger. The fix-it baby who fixed nothing with the two of them because their marriage was over and I was tossed into a sea of randoms for the next half a dozen years. My mother threw herself into work to prove that she was a smart and accomplished woman all while growing more bitter, and my father could find another woman who was lonely enough to want to give him everything without him having to do much. His being a high-profile lawyer didn’t save him to still being a user. His marriage to my mother put him into the upper echelon of Black society in the tri-state area and he was more than happy to capitalize on it. My stepmother was proof that money didn’t make you smart. She had a lot of it and while my mother had met a man with ambition and he turned out to be a user, my stepmother went into their relationship with eyes wide open to the bullshit. And then drug two kids into it when she knew he didn’t really pay me any attention. She could brag that she got her man, though so it was worth it to her.
I nodded and continued to move the way he’d been before I switched subjects. “I appreciate that. But I’m still waiting to hear what you think I need to help you with after you tried to murder me.”
He stood up straight and stretched out his arms and the pensive look on his face had me even more concerned about his request. Is he about to ask for some ass? And why does that thought not have me looking for a weapon?
