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I stare at it. “New choker?”
She lifts a pierced brow and nods. “Upcycled.”
“As in it went higher than your tits?” I say it straight-faced and stuff a taco in my mouth.
Emily nearly chokes on her soda. Her jaw drops and she looks me over. “No, upcycled—as in recycled with a higher, more glam purpose. That was slightly ostentatious for this time of day. What got into you?” Her gaze slips over me, appraisingly, and then the corner of her mouth tips up and I get treated to a nod of respect.
“Nothing. I'm just sick of pussyfooting around all the time. I’m going to be blunt for the rest of my life. You have a bra strap on your neck, dude. Phys Ed sweats make up ninety percent of my wardrobe. We both are freaked out by those stairs at the bar.”
Emily snorts, “With good reason.”
I munch another bite and wipe a piece of lettuce off my lip before saying, mouth still full, “I like the strap choker. It’s like a big ‘F YOU’ to everyone. The hair rocks, too.”
Emily preens and her shoulders go back, neck long and lean. You’d think I paid her the highest compliment she ever received. Apparently, she was going for the ‘fuck off’ outfit and nailed it. “You don’t look so bad yourself. I like the new non-gym attire. It’s like you’re not a PE major or something. Once you get a few paint stains on those jeans, you’ll blend right in with the rest of us.”
I laugh and wince slightly, careful not to put my hand on my distressed muscles. My all-nighter made it very clear I don’t have abs of steel. “I’m sure.”
Emily notices how I tense I am and the way my eyes start to press shut. Chewing her food in the side of her mouth, she swallows and asks, “Working out?”
You could say that. “Yeah. I’m channeling all my unresolved anger into an awesome workout plan.”
Also known as the ‘screw Nate until I can’t walk’ method. It’s done wonders for my mood. I feel light and limber. The part of me that was emotionally overridden and shorting out has stopped arcing like a fork in a microwave. I was totally ready to blow, well, not like that. Although, that was a good diversion. Nate tastes good, sweet almost. Probably from drinking all that juice. I smirk, not meaning to. I need to buy him some more OJ.
Emily’s fork balances on her finger as she stares at me. “A new workout plan? Is it hard?”
I suppress a grin. “Yeah, it’s really hard, the hardest I’ve ever done.” Double entendre. Inner giggle. I go straight-faced when Emily blinks at me, not looking away.
“Does it target your stomach and butt?”
“Amongst other areas, yeah.” I’m stuffing a taco in my face to hide my I-had-sex smile.
Emily nods. At first I don’t think she has a clue. She keeps stepping in it, rambling on about how she needs to work on her ass and if this new exercise could make her tighter, perkier.
“Totally, all of the above.” Tighter, perkier, and all around happier.
Carter saunters over with a tray in his hands and sits down next to me. A rail of a guy who is uber tall and covered in piercings, also sits down next to Emily and suddenly there are a lot of people.
The conversation keeps going and Carter chimes in. “You hit 25,000 steps yesterday. What the hell were you doing?” Carter pulls the tomatoes off his tacos as he watches me out of the corner of his eyes.
The Fitbit. Damn it. I forgot to take it off last night. Emily says casually, “New workout. She was at it all night.”
“Yeah.” I stuff a taco in my face and wish I had more food to hide behind. I need to get out of here before he starts asking questions. As it is, I think Emily knows.
She flashes a cool look my way and continues, “Next time you work out, bring me with you.” It’s a command, not open for rejection.
I hedge, “It’s not really a group thing.”
Her eyes flash and my stomach sinks. She knows. She has to know, but if she did then she’d be in my face about Nate being a professor. She’d hate me. Maybe she hasn’t figured it out after all. “Since when is an exercise class not a group thing?”
“Well, I meant they don’t have any more openings.” I start collecting my tray, throwing my utensils on top of my plate, and slip my fingers under the tray preparing to stand. “I need to run.”
“Where’s it at?” Emily presses.
I’m standing now and about to walk away from the table. “I don’t have the address. I’ll grab it for you later, okay?”
Carter picks up his phone and speaks while his eyes are glued to the screen. “I can grab the address for you. Kerry, just open the—” his voice trails off as he pushes buttons on the screen.
“I said I’ll get it later. Carter, stop—” But he doesn’t. I know what he’s going to see before he opens it.
