“Alright, Gige, I’ve got to get going but I love you. Talk to you soon.”
“Love you too. Have fun at Pilates.” Her knowing tone saying it all, making me grin as I hang up the phone and place it on my kitchen counter.
I tip my head back, close my eyes and let out a controlled exhale. My mind flicks back to the studio – replaying the session in my mind. Scarlett’s soft, soothing voice. Her hands on me, correcting my form in a way that made my heart race. So distracting. If I could just stop having this reaction to her, I could get on with my recovery slightly easier.
My mind then shifts to my dad. Since my mom left and never looked back, it’s just been the three of us. Him, Gigi and I. And I don’t necessarily feel like that’s a good thing. I feel we would bebetter off without him. Maybe he even blames us for her walking out, though it could never be anyone but my dad’s fault.
I rub my hand over my jaw. I’m frustrated, I just feel so fucking helpless. My dad’s an asshole, I’m not allowed on the ice, I feel like I’m crumbling. How has my life completely fallen apart in six short months?
I can’t shake off the guilt that creeps in every single time I do anything that’s not spending time with Gige, especially during off-season.
She needs me on the ice, though. The NHL is good money, I need to be able to help support her. She’s all I have. She is worth it. I need to get healthy, there’s no other option.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SCARLETT
It’s quarter to one and I’ve just finished a class with an online client. The studio is quiet and serene – a delight that I am sure won’t last long when my next client arrives, if he arrives. The bright Seattle sun is spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows warming the room, bathing it in a nice glow and highlighting the greens of the potted plants along the studio’s back wall. The mild scent of Eucalyptus lingers in the air creating a calm and focused environment, and I’m going to need all the help I can get when it comes to Levi Carter.
I’m standing behind the front desk as I glance at my phone again, a text blaring on my screen.
WILLIAM
Come home, baby. We can work this out.
Sighing, I shake it off, shifting my attention to the time. Levi’s ten minutes late. I should expect better from a professional hockey player, but due to his attitude, I’m not all that surprised. Especially considering he was also late for our first session a couple days ago.
I take a deep breath to will myself to have some patience – my schedule doesn’t allow for this tardiness; does he not care about being fit for the coming season? I understand he doesn’t want to do this but the sooner he gets it over and done with, the better. For both of us.
At last, fourteen minutes late, the door finally swings open. Levi’s large, 6’1 frame fills the doorway. His broad shoulders fill out his grey hoodie, black shorts showing off his muscular legs, and his typical white sneakers. He walks – actually, he struts – toward the desk carrying an air of confidence, bordering on arrogance, as his bright blue eyes sweep across the room, before finally landing on me.
“Ah, Scarlett, lovely to see you again.” He teases.
“You’re late, Levi.”
“Sorry, traffic.”
I arch a brow. What a lame excuse. “Don’t let it happen again. My time is not to be wasted.”
I purse my lips, starting over to the reformer beds as I glance back at Levi, “Shoes off. We shouldn’t waste any more time. Here are your socks as well.” I point at the bench.
After removing his shoes, Levi walks over to the bed I’m standing at, staring it down, “Seriously? That thing looks like a torture device.” He grimaces.
“Well, this torture device is what will get you back on the ice, so let’s get going. I’m gonna talk you through how everything works before we start.” I retort.
He shoots me a smug smirk, and I get down into a squat position next to the bed.
“Here are the springs; yellow is light, blue is medium, and red is heavy. You must use whichever spring load I tell you at any given time.” I start, glancing up quickly so my eyes meet his to make sure he’s paying attention. He rolls his eyes. “Here we have the carriage, the platform, and the foot bar. The carriage is the part that moves.” I look up again, he wears an exasperated look. I continue anyway, turning back to the reformer, “the straps you see here pull the carriage. We use the short loops for our hands,” I look back to Levi as I finish, “and the long loops for our feet. When I refer to the well, I'm talking about the space behind the carriage. That’s about it. Got any questions, Carter?”
He looks dumbfounded. “Um, no, no I don’t think so… I think we should get this over and done with.”
“Alright, we’ll start with a chest expansion on a light spring. We just want to focus on your mobility today,” I look up at him, “Come into high kneeling on the carriage facing straight toward those mirrors.” I point toward the back wall.
Levi stares at me for a second before climbing onto the reformer, looking unsteady the moment his knees touch the carriage.
I make sure to catch his eye, “Levi, today is not about strength, or overworking. I want you to focus on slow and controlled movements. Do you understand?”
He rolls his eyes. “Yes, princess,” he teases, which seems to be his default tone today. Is he not taking this seriously?
