I nodded. “You got it, boss.”
He smirked, but the crooked smile fell just as quickly as it had come. “Why did you need to drink tonight? What happened?”
A pain shot through my stomach and I pulled my legs into me instinctively. Rhodes didn’t try to pull me back. He let me retreat, pulling his right ankle up to rest on his left knee as he waited for me to explain.
“Well, my ex’s new girlfriend basically told me that I don’t belong anymore and that none of my friends even care about me, nor have they ever cared about me before. I’m the ‘rich fat girl,’” I word-vomited. “Her words, not mine. Though I can’t really argue her point.”
Rhodes balled up his fists, but he didn’t say anything. He just kept his eyes on mine, waiting.
“Willow, my best friend, didn’t hear her say it. But Mason did. And he didn’t do anything about it.” My stomach tightened at the admission and I felt tears sting my eyes again, but I shook them off. “So I bailed. And I just wanted to feel okay, I wanted something to make me happy, so I went to get food. Like always. Even though I knew I’d regret it. And…” I trailed off. “Well, you know the rest.”
He seemed to chew on what I’d just told him, his jaw flexing beneath his flawless skin. It was peppered with just the slightest hint of stubble, which worked with the shadow from his hat to frame his jaw in the low light. “You shouldn’t hang out with people who treat you like that, Natalie.”
I shrugged, untucking my legs from my arms and pulling them up under me to sit crisscross style, instead. “My friends aren’t the ones doing it. It’s Shay.”
“But like you said, Mason didn’t stop her. And did anyone else?”
I didn’t respond.
“Exactly. Don’t let these people make you feel like this, Bug. Not them, not anyone else. I know it seems like what they think about you matters right now, but it doesn’t.” He bent down a little lower, trying to get me to look at him. “Remember what I said in the gym after you reamed me out?”
“Hey! I didn’t ream you out. I yelled at you. And you deserved it.”
He chuckled, the noise low and throaty. “The point is, I push you because I believe in you. So when they get in your head, just think about that. Maybe it’s time to start believing in yourself, too.”
I could smell the faint scent of mint on his breath as it hit my skin, sparking a wave of chills. I didn’t know what else to say about me, so I turned it around to focus on him. “Was that your girlfriend last night?”
He sighed, leaning back and scrubbing his hands down his face just as the oven timer sounded. “Don’t, Natalie.”
I frowned as he moved from the couch back into the kitchen. “What? I’m not allowed to ask?”
“Not when you know the answer.”
I chewed my cheek, standing and moving to the other side of the kitchen island so I could watch him finish dinner. Or breakfast. Whatever you consider food after midnight to be. “But that’s just it,” I corrected him. “I don’t. Not really.”
Rhodes carefully removed the pan from the oven and set it on top of the stove. “She’s not my girlfriend, Bug. None of them are. They’re my clients.”
I shook my head, the word client sending a familiar yet uneasy zing through my chest. “What? Did they pay for the platinum package to get that kind of extra time?” I scoffed. “Remind me to change my membership before our next training session. Don’t want to be missing out on the perks.” I cringed a little at my words, shocked that they came from my mouth.
Rhodes was plating our food but my words halted him, too, his hands dropping down to grip the handle of the oven hard. I watched as his knuckles turned white and he hung his head, shaking it just slightly. I almost spoke again when he silenced my sass with a loud slam of his hand on the counter. The force shook our plates and he rushed toward me, pinning my hips to the counter with his own before I even comprehended what was happening. He was flush against me, and he snaked his hands into my wind-blown hair like he owned me. “Is this what you want, Natalie?” His tongue licked his bottom lip before he drug his teeth across the tender flesh. I watched fascinated, my breath caught in my throat. “You want me to kiss you in the hot tub? Touch you in the sauna?” His voice was low but gruff, each question laced with lust I’d never experienced before. He flexed his hips forward and I inhaled stiffly. “Fuck you on the treadmill?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t breathe, let alone form words. Rhodes stayed there a moment, his body now firmly between my legs, his hands still grasping my neck. He swallowed, his fervent eyes falling to my lips briefly before he released his hold and backed away.
I exhaled the moment he did, oxygen finding me in a rush. It felt like my first breath and my last one, too.
“What if I did want those things?” I murmured, surprising myself more than him, I was sure. “It wouldn’t matter, would it? I’m not hot enough. I’m not skinny enough…” my voice trailed off. “I’m not like them.”
“Why don’t you get it?” he growled roughly, reaching into the cabinet above the stove before slamming it closed again. He turned to me then and his eyes were piercing, like the sharpest blade slicing right through my fragile defense. Suddenly, and for the first time in my life, I felt small. “You’re right. You’re not like my other clients. Them?” He gestured in the direction of the door, his voice raised. “They don’t have goals. They’re selfish, greedy, and entitled. They sign up for sessions with me so they have a solid excuse when they want to dip out on their rich ass husbands to come fuck me.” He slammed his hand against his chest when he referenced himself and I flinched at his honesty. Rhodes swallowed. He knew he’d struck a nerve, but he kept going.
“I’m not a good person, okay? I train and screw around with other people who are just as shitty as I am.” He moved closer, his palms flattening out on the counter in front of me as his eyes leveled with mine. “That’s why when you walked into the gym, I couldn’t figure out why.”
Breath was a fleeting thing.
“Why? Because I’m the only one who’s actually fat?” I whispered. I was certainly more overweight than those other women I’d seen him with. I waited for him to scold me, or roll his eyes, or sigh, but he just watched me. He studied me. And then, his eyes softened.
“You’re not, Natalie. You,” he paused, lifting his hat to run his hands through his hair before pulling it back on again. “You’re weightless. The world hasn’t touched you yet. You’re not heavy with the weight of pain, and guilt, and selfishness.” He shook his head, biting his lower lip in that same way that made my skin heat just moments before. “You’re light. Don’t ever lose that. Don’t let the world weigh you down like them.” He shifted, looking away. “Like me.”
With that, he turned back to the stove and finished plating our dinner, effectively ending our conversation while his words still swirled in my head. We moved back to the couch and again I found myself hugging the arm. I had so many questions. What had weighed him down? Why did he think this was his only path in life? How many women did he sleep with? Did he like it? But he was done talking about it, I knew that, so I changed the subject again.
“You made us muffins?” I asked when he clicked on the TV.
“They’re corn dog muffins. Eighty calories each.” I smiled at his thoughtfulness and he shrugged, the flickering light of the television dancing across his face. “You wanted fair food, so I’m giving it to you. Just modified.”
I just smiled harder, even though I knew I probably looked like an idiot. When I noticed a change in Rhodes’ breathing, my smile melted. His eyes flickered to my lips momentarily, but he looked away so fast I almost questioned if I’d seen it.
“Thank you, Rhodes. For tonight. For… everything, really.”
He shifted. “I didn’t do much.”
“It’s a lot, to me.”
I noticed his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, but he just nodded. We watched the sports channel he’d pulled up and ate our midnight snack in quie
t. It was mouthwatering and delicious and I had a hard time not eating five-hundred calories worth of those low-calorie muffins. I made sure to tell him that at least eight times before we walked out to his bike. It was almost two in the morning, but I felt wide awake.
He drove slower on the way to my house than he had earlier on the way to his. The night air was warm, but the wind was cool, and the moon was bright enough to light our way without his headlight. I didn’t know what to make of what he’d said earlier or of what he’d done for me, so I tried not to dwell on it, but my mind was racing as fast as the bike. My heart was beating fast, my mouth was dry, and I felt myself leaning closer and closer to an edge I wasn’t sure I was prepared to fall over.
When we pulled up to my drive, he cut the engine and propped his bike up on the stand at the end of the road. My parents didn’t expect me until late, still, they certainly didn’t expect me to arrive on the back of a motorcycle, so I had him pull over by our brick mailbox. Rhodes pulled my helmet off and chuckled as I tried to tame my hair. When I sighed and gave up, he held his smirk.
“Can I ask you something before you go?”
He leaned back, half-sitting on his bike seat and crossing his arms over my helmet. His eyes took on an entirely new appearance in the light of the moon. They were darker, yet the green still shone through the night. “You and your questions.”
I blushed, but asked anyway. “Your sister…” He stiffened, and I almost didn’t ask, but I couldn’t hold the words back. “You said she was pretty. Is she… did they never… what does that mean?”
His jaw tensed. “She’s dead.”
Two words. He said them so unflinchingly, like they didn’t hold the weight that they did. I knew I probably should have said I was sorry for his loss, but Rhodes didn’t strike me as someone who would want to hear that. It wasn’t personal, it wasn’t sincere — it was laced with bullshit that I didn’t want to feed him. So, I asked another question.
“What happened?” I shook my head. “I mean, I know, kind of. I remember when she… when they said she was missing.”
Rhodes wouldn’t look at me. He would look up toward the sky, to the left down the road, down at his sneakers — but never at me. “She just disappeared. We drove to school together, I saw her at lunch, then again right before weightlifting practice, but she never came home that night.”
I gulped.
“What about your parents? Did they try looking for her?”
“I don’t have parents, Bug. We were in a home.”
My heart broke. It was all starting to make sense. “I know she disappeared, but how do you know she’s dead? Did they… did they find her?” I felt sick even asking, and I couldn’t bring myself to add body to the end of that question.
“They never found her.” He breathed slowly. “I don’t know for sure that she’s dead, but I have to believe she is.”
“Why?”
He shrugged, and his eyes finally met mine again. There was a pain there that was indescribable, a pain I knew I could never fully understand. “Because it’s better than the alternative.”
I bit my lips against the tears threatening the back of my eyes. I didn’t have the right to cry. “I’m sorry, Rhodes,” I whispered.
“Are you finished with your questions?” he asked, standing. I nodded. Without another word, he packed the helmet I’d worn into his backpack and pulled on his own, mounting the bike and sparking it to life. He peered at me through the lens for a short second before pulling off, leaving a light cloud of smoke as he did.
I stood there motionless, scolding myself for asking questions, for effectively ruining the night. He was the only thing good about mine, and I’d just wrecked his. I sighed, dragging my feet inside and up to my room, head not spinning any less than it had been when I woke up that morning.
Before I let myself go to bed, I stood in a scorching hot shower. I tried to burn the night from my skin — the words Shay spoke to me, the words Mason didn’t say to make it right, the words I wished I could take back that I’d said to Rhodes. I imagined the water washing them from me and pulling them down the drain, along with all the hurt they’d caused.
But when I succumbed to my bed and pulled the covers up high over my head, I still felt them on me.
I didn’t dream about Rhodes that night.
I didn’t sleep at all.
My stomach was in knots as I dressed for my training session the next day. I was nervous about facing Rhodes again after what I’d asked about his sister the night before. Would he be angry? Hurt? Sad? Would he ever want to talk to me again?
It didn’t help that I could hear Mom and Dale arguing down the hall. I swallowed as Dale’s voice rose louder when I packed the last of my gym bag. Zipping it up, I tossed it over my shoulder and hurried out of my room and down the stairs, trying my best not to eavesdrop on what was being said. All I’d picked up was that Dale had been drunk the night before, which wasn’t anything new, and Mom was pissed — again, not anything new. It wasn’t that they fought all the time, but Dale did tend to get into trouble when he drank. I wasn’t sure what it was — if he embarrassed himself or Mom or both — but there always seemed to be a bit of a tiff after he had a night of drinking.
I padded down the hall to the kitchen where I figured their voices would be mostly drowned out, pulling up the meal plan Rhodes developed for me. Meal prepping was still far from my favorite pastime, but I was getting better at it.
“Want some help with that?” Christina asked, wrapping an apron around her waist as she entered the kitchen. I smiled and nodded, and in her soft, almond-shaped eyes, I could see that she heard them fighting, too.
Christina had been cooking for me ever since I could remember. She was from Venezuela and her family had moved to Poxton Beach when she was a teenager, fleeing the dangerous conditions of her home country. She had two little boys — Junior and Luis — and she treated me like the daughter she never had. I always welcomed her advice, but I loved it even more when she knew I didn’t want to talk at all. She and Moses were a lot alike in that respect.
We cut and cooked and prepped for the next thirty minutes, not really talking but not feeling uncomfortable in the silence, either. That was, until it wasn’t silence anymore.
“I don’t care what you call it, Dale. If you don’t get it under control, you’re going to have to say goodbye to the woman who has looked past it for so long!” My mom stormed down the stairs and I stood frozen with two packed Tupper-Ware containers in my hand, waiting to go to the fridge. Christina had already excused herself, leaving me to stare alone.
Mom’s face was tear-stained with streaks of mascara marring her cheeks like scars. When she saw me, she sniffed, shook her head, and laughed. “Men,” she said, wiping her nose with a balled up tissue in her hand. “They are just silly sometimes, aren’t they?”
“Mom…” I dropped the containers and moved toward her. I would be late if I didn’t leave soon, but I didn’t care. They’d fought before, but I’d never seen my mom cry like that — ever. “What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing sweetheart.”
“Come on, Mom. It’s okay. Talk to me.”
She sighed, shaking her head again and grabbing the containers I’d abandoned. She carefully placed them in the fridge and then turned to face me, propping herself back against the counter. “I’m fine. It’ll all be fine.”
I just stared at her, trying to decipher if she was lying. She waved me away.
“I promise. We’re just having a tiff. He’ll realize I’m right and come around. He always does.” She smiled. “You heading to see your trainer?”
I nodded, letting her change the subject, and her smile widened. Mom didn’t really ever talk to me about her relationship issues, which made sense, being that she was my parent. Still, we were also best friends, and I hated not knowing what was making her cry.
She lifted from the counter and tucked a fallen strand of my hair behind my ear.
“He’
s really doing a great job already, Natalie. I can tell.”
I shrugged, suddenly feeling odd under her watchful eyes. I was concerned for her fight with Dale, but I still hadn’t forgotten her conversation on the phone that I’d overheard. She was finally seeing me turn into the daughter she could be proud of. I just wished it wasn’t because I was losing weight.
“Oh!” She clapped her hands together. “Let’s go shopping after your session! I bet you need new workout clothes. Invite Willow. It’ll be fun!”
“Mom…” I groaned. “I don’t want to buy fat clothes.”
“Oh stop,” she scolded, clicking her tongue. “You shouldn’t be wearing raggy old high school t-shirts to the club and I could use the girl time. Please?”
I sighed, not excited about the idea of shopping, but I also knew that retail therapy was her favorite. This was Mom’s way of telling me she needed me. “Okay. I’ll call Willow.”
I needed to call her anyway. She’d blown my phone up all night and morning trying to apologize for last night.
“Perfect!” Mom scampered off toward the stairs. “I’ll get showered and dressed. By the time you train, get back, shower, and get ready, I should be almost finished.”
I laughed at that. “I could probably eat and take a nap beforehand, too.”
She giggled, but didn’t deny it, before trotting up the stairs. At least she seemed better than when she’d come down them. It took a lot to knock my mom down for longer than a few minutes. After the hell my dad put her through when I was younger, there wasn’t much that could faze her. Though, when she told me stories about her before Dale, it was always so hard for me to imagine. To me, she’d always been a wealthy, classy, refined woman. It was hard to imagine the poor, rough around the edges version of her.
In fact, I didn’t really know much about that time in her life. My dad left her when I was born, not even leaving so much as a note. She met Dale two years later and only a year after that they were married. He’d been around my entire life. Dale was my father, as far as I was concerned. Still, my grandmother often told me how Dale brought out the best in my mom and saved her from a really dark time in her life. I guess in a way, Dale sort of saved me, too.
Summer Romance Box Set: 3 Bestselling Stand-Alone Romances: Weightless, Revelry, and On the Way to You Page 10
