“Too much?” I ask.
“Just tired,” she says, but doesn’t elaborate. Nor does she move to do her last rep.
“You can do this,” I say, and I clap my hands together.
“What was that?” She laughs and hangs her head low, shaking it.
“Isn't that what I'm supposed to do? Cheer you on! Big you up!”
“Just stay close,” she says.
Oh, I will.
“You got this!” I call out.
“And quiet, please.”
“Right-oh.” I bend low only half a second after she does. She does indeed seem to need more of her to lift the bar this time and at one point I worry she's not going to do it, or that maybe she'll hurt herself. I inch a little closer, close enough that the front of my thighs are lined up behind hers. A moment later, the bar is up and she's standing straight, the back of her - all of it - pressed against the front of me - all of it. She holds her lift a few seconds longer than she held the previous ones, then she drops it with a loud thud. But she doesn't move, and it could be my imagination, but it feels like she applies a little more pressure, leaning back against me, seeking me out with her back and butt and I'm there, I'm right there, ready and warm and hard and...
“Hey! Streak of piss!” I hear an instant mood-killer of a voice.
“Fuck!” I hiss.
“Why are you fecking hiding from us here?” Maeve is marching towards us. I step back as quickly as Jenna shifts forward. Maeve is close enough now to see Jenna. “Oh, hello. Again.”
“Hi,” Jenna says and then she turns to me and adds in a whisper, “Hot sister.”
“What are you guys doing?” Maeve's nose wrinkles, like she's just come across a bad smell.
“Weights,” I say at the same time Jenna says, “Lifting.”
“You don't lift weights,” Maeve says with a snort.
“No, but she does.” I point at Jenna. “And she's strong too.”
“That's cool.” Maeve gives a shrug that will appear uninterested to Jenna, but I know it's a serious indicator that she's impressed. Maeve curls her upper lip as she gives me a once over. “Could you put some clothes on, please? I don't want to taste my breakfast again.”
It's Jenna's turn to snort now.
“It's got to be over twenty-five degrees already and I’m covered in multiple layers of sweat, so no.”
“Well, Ma wants you back at the villa,” she says, as she starts fiddling with the exercise bike’s seat which is much too tall for her.
“Bollocks,” I mumble.
“I'm all done,” Jenna says. She grabs her phone, headphones, and a bottle of water. She doesn't look at me when she speaks, “Thanks for spotting me.”
“Is that what you call it?” Maeve snickers as she continues to mess around with the bike seat unsuccessfully. “You better head back, brother dearest. Ma is not happy, even despite a double yoga session with twenty minutes of silent meditative breathing. Dad wasn't even allowed to flush the loo during it. I mean, look at what I’ve resorted to so as to escape it. I am actually wearing all this gear I get for free, giving myself a savage wedgie and obscene camel toe.”
“Jesus, Maeve. Do you have to?” I shake my head.
“She's right.” Jenna walks backwards away from us, much too quickly for my liking. “Lycra is not a friend of all parts of the female anatomy, but also at the same time, embrace it, Maeve. You look amazing, camel toe and all!”
She turns and then shuffles off in a light jog.
“Jenna, wait!” I call out.
“Oi! Don't forget your manky sweat rag down here.” Maeve points at my discarded top.
