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SAOIRSE
My heels beatagainst the terrain, legs propelling me forward as I try to keep up with Liam’s lengthy and unnaturally-effortless stride.
Cold air zips past my parted teeth as my lungs pump hard. Each breath stings, roaring at me to slow down, but I don’t. Instead, I push forward, forcing my legs to keep moving, unwilling to give in to the crippling defeat burning at the backs of my thighs.
“You doing okay back there?” Liam pivots on the balls of his feet, facing me but still jogging backwards towards our destination of the gym.
How does he look so at ease? Three miles of torture, and he hasn’t broken a sweat. Sure, we were running down the mountain, so momentum is supposedly on my side, not that it has helped. But, in my defence, I am not a runner — unless we're talking metaphorically. Then I’m a champ.
My mother made sure I knew how to run at a moment's notice. As for the physical, not so much — a brisk walk is the height of my usual exercise routine. And by usual, I mean once in a blue moon and twice of a bloody sun.
The moral of my rant is I’m pretty sure Liam is trying to kill me. And, if my heart failure is his endgame, he’s succeeding.
Ignoring the stitch developing under my left breast, I power through. “G-good. I’m goo-good!”
“Are you sure, free bird? You’re looking a bit flushed.” His mouth swoops to one side, spreading a sneer across his handsome face, goading me. Sparks of amusement crinkle his eyes as they roam over my exhausted limbs.
He slows to a stop, allowing me to creep closer and narrow the distance between us. Once I reach him, my body folds in half, hands clutching my knees as I permit my starved lungs to draw in a gulp of air. The taste of blood coats my tongue as I run the tip over the roof of my dried mouth. “My insides are bleeding.”
A deep laugh rumbles from the depths of his chest. “Bit dramatic, don’t you think.”
Cranking my neck, I tilt my head up, searching out his eyes, skewering him with a don’t-push-me glare.
“Here, take a sip of this.” He holds out his water bottle. “The bloody taste is normal. It means your body is doing its job, pumping more oxygen-rich blood to your muscles.”
Hoisting myself upright, I ignore my jelly limbs, reach for the bottle, and then bring it to my lips. The rush of cold water dampens my parched tongue before it swirls down my throat, easing the burning sensation scorching my lungs.
“Easy,” Liam warns. “Don’t overdo it. Small sips, or you’ll make yourself sick.”
Finally, when I feel somewhat stable, I ask, “What’s the point of this, anyway? I thought we were supposed to be training. Correct me if I’m wrong, but how is running supposed to help me?”
“Stamina, speed, agility — there are several reasons, really. But, mainly, it’s to warm up your muscles before we begin the real training.”
“What?” My eyes widen as I tilt my head to the side. “A warm-up? Meaning there’s more.”
A contagious laugh explodes from his mouth. “Come on, free bird. We’ll walk the rest of the way. Give you a second to catch your breath.”
“Fuck you, Liam.”
Our eyes engage as his lips cock into a sexy sloped smile. “I’m free later if you’re willing.” His wink shoots through my core, setting a billion butterflies free.
“In your dreams, Devereux.”
“Every. Fucking. Night.”
* * *
I’m dying— both literally and figuratively. Black spots dance behind my lids, and every inch of my body aches as my soul cries out for mercy. Liam was not joking. This morning's run seems like a walk in the park after the excruciating workout he just inflicted on me.
Lying on the flat of my back in the large canvas octagon in the centre of the Devereux’s gym, my rib cage rises and falls in a turbulent rhythm as I fight to steady my serrated breaths.
“No more, please.” As much as I enjoyed rolling around with a tattooed Adonis, I can’t take another second without keeling over.
Looming over me, Liam encourages me. “Come on, one more run through. Time to show me what you’re made of, free bird.”
“Tell me why I need to know how to defend myself, and I’ll think about it.”
His eyes crinkle into slits as his attention moves towards his mother. Who isnotso subtly watching us from her office doorway.
