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twenty-three
“Show me how to climb the rope.” Constance grasped the hemp and looked up at the high ceiling, where the rope was attached. There was a piece of black electrical tape wrapped at the fifteen-foot mark, which seemed really high from her place on the floor.
“On your list of goals?” Rhett slid a bench over.
“Rope climbs were in the very first workout I did here. I remember being in awe of how fast you zipped up and down. Now that it’s January, it’s time to work on a resolution.”
Rhett smiled and patted the bench. “Have a seat.”
That smile felt like a warm ray of sunshine. Since Christmas, all of Rhett’s responses to her texts had been tight and short. Not rude, but distant. Constance had been coming to class like a regular member, with no special instruction from Rhett and little exchanged between them but a few nods and waves. The gym had been crowded since the first of the month and snagging alone time with him had been impossible. Today, Constance came in early on purpose, saw Rhett in the office as she went by, but left him alone. She tried a rope climb by herself, failed miserably and found herself on her back, staring up at Rhett.
“It seems impossible.”
“It’s not.” Rhett sat down on the bench. “Two ways to wrap your feet. You can snake the rope—” Rhett wrapped his leg with the rope several times, like he was doing needlework “—or you can do the J-hook.” He made a little shelf with both of his feet, one on top of the rope and one beneath.
“Ah, okay.” Only now did Constance realize that the rope climb, like so many lifts with the barbell, was more about the lower body than the upper. “But you didn’t even use your feet, that time I watched you.”
“I know—” Rhett arched an eyebrow at her “—but it takes a lot of upper body strength to do a legless rope climb.”
“Show me. I forget what it looks like,” she lied.
Rhett stood up, grabbed the rope and, using only his upper body, pulled himself all the way up to where the electrical tape was wrapped. Then he rappelled himself back down, the same way. Constance silently admired his smooth athletic ability. He made that look so easy. She couldn’t help but picture him without the shirt on.
“Let’s try the J-hook. Just sitting on the bench, I want you to make a shelf out of the rope, with your feet.” He demonstrated a second time, then passed her the rope. Once Constance got it right, he said, “Good. Now, in order to minimize how much upper body you use, I want you to focus on leaning your body back and getting those feet as high as possible on the rope for your second hook.” He stood up and showed her what he meant, climbing his feet up near his hands. With his height, he was able to climb the rope to the black tape in only a pull and a half.
Constance started from a seated position on the bench, then worked her way to standing. At first it was awkward to hook her feet, then when she finally did she’d run out of upper body strength while she hung there, trying to hook her feet a second time. Rhett told her she “wasn’t horrible” and made her rest before trying again, and again.
By the time she’d put in a solid twenty minutes of work, Constance could get two mini pulls that moved her a third of the way up the rope.
“Make sure you come down the same way,” Rhett said, arms folded over his chest, something of a proud smile on his face. “Don’t slide down and give yourself rope burn to the hands or legs. Control your descent.”
Constance tried, but that was easier said than done. Her arms fatigued quickly and she slid down the rope. She sank to the bench and peered down at the rope burns on her inner thighs. This was the first day she’d felt comfortable enough about her legs to wear shorts to the gym, and now she had rope burns.
Rhett knelt down in front of her. “Let’s see.” He pushed her knees apart and grazed his thumbs over the reddened, scraped skin. “All right. Not too bad. We’ll clean it, and next time you’ll control your descent better.”
Chills popped over Constance’s skin.
Rhett looked up into her eyes, his hands going still on top of her thighs. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about the night of the party. About Katrina. And Humphrey.” Rhett tilted his head from side to side, as though shaking his thoughts around to sort them out.
That warm ray of sunshine expanded inside Constance’s stomach.
“That’s not how you taught me rope climbs, Santos. I’m jealous.”
Constance and Rhett both jerked their heads in the direction of the amused male voice that came from the vicinity of the entrance. It was obvious neither one of them had heard him come in.
“Callahan!” Rhett smiled and rose to his feet. “You haven’t been in much. Just when you promised you were going to start taking your fitness more seriously.”
Constance’s breath caught in her throat. Detective Callahan stood a few feet away, wearing gym clothes and toting a giant gym bag. He grasped Rhett’s outstretched hand and pulled him in for a man-hug, that one-armed-shoulder-bump dance that the American male favored.
“I’m back for sure now,” Callahan said. “I’ve done some soul-searching over the holidays and I made a decision that’s got me back on track.”
“I hope so.” Rhett popped him in the gut. “You’re not getting my special rope climb instruction package without a serious commitment.”
Callahan laughed as he took the hit, giving a sharp exhale. He rubbed his midsection, which was mostly flat, and looked over at Constance. After a second, his eyes narrowed. “Miss Morrigan.” He dragged out her name with recognition. “What are the odds? I was just going to tell Santos here how this one little lady, a masseuse, got me back on track. You told me to quit saying yes to something I wanted to say no to, remember?” He walked over and stuck his hand out. “Well, I finally told my ex that getting back together was not going to happen. Told her on Christmas Day. My neck hasn’t hurt since.”
“You broke it off on Christmas Day?”
“Best present I could give myself.”
