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He waved that away. “Bullshit. You’re narrating all those genres,” he tapped the phone again. “I’m only writing two.”
“Zel,” Aithan caught my hand, “accept the credit. You busted your butt to get here.”
I smiled at my guys and nodded. “Okay. You’re right. I’m friggin’ awesome.”
They laughed.
Drew sat back in his chair. “You know, the conference is in Los Angeles. In March.”
Aithan’s face lit up. “We’ve gotta go. Then you can meet my family. Both of you.”
“Really?” Drew looked a bit taken aback. “You want them to meet me, too?”
“Absolutely. My sisters, Mama, and Babcia would kill me if I didn’t bring you along. Pauli’s been your fan for years. She got the rest of us hooked on your books. And Mama wants to discuss harems with you.”
Drew’s face screwed up with bafflement. “That’s gonna be weird in a very cool, very meta kinda way. I never thought I’d discuss reverse harem with the mother of my ménage brother.”
“That makes two of us.” Aithan laughed. “I have a big family, and they’re weird and loud and enthusiastic, so brace yourselves.”
I squeezed his hand. “I would love to meet your weird, loud, enthusiastic family. The Mazurs sound wonderful.”
He nodded. “They’re definitely unique.”
“Good,” Drew said, “then we’ll fit right in.”
5
YOU CAN ONLY FALL
Aithan glancedat the clock on the gym wall as he did one more slow pull-up. It was three fifteen. He had a physical in forty-five minutes. His gaze drifted to the gym’s main floor as he paused at the top of the lift, breathing through the discomfort in his lungs and muscles. The Intermediate Resistance B class wandered in, greeting each other. Beth, the lead trainer, fiddled with the music, trying to decide between two playlists while Chel, one of the other trainers, wrote the workout of the day on the whiteboard.
Exhaling, Aithan slowly lowered his body. He hung for a moment before dropping to the mat. His muscles shook, still not getting all the oxygen they needed. His doctor had cleared him for light exercise. Of course, the doc’s idea of “light” and his were vastly different, but he got the picture. He was running daily, doing planks, and isolated muscle work, but no lifting, no full-body weight-bearing exercises, nothing challenging or explosive. This was the first set of pull-ups he’d done since before the attack.
He hated how hard they were. So he’d made a game of it to keep from losing his mind. How slowly could he complete a rep? He timed them. And he focused on his breathing, deciding this was the time to perfect his breathing techniques. He’d need the control once he started lifting weights again. Had to protect his healing right lung.
He yawned and shook his head, also annoyed with how tired he still was. It didn’t help that he couldn’t sleep well, even on the nights he slept alone. His dreams seemed more intense than they’d been before the attack. The combination of pain medication and not enough training was messing with his brain. Hopefully his doctor would clear him for heavier exercise today.
Tristan moved around the gym, wiping down the equipment with a towel and disinfectant spray. He kept glancing over at Aithan.
“Aithan, dude! Nice to see you back on the floor,” called one of the students. He trotted across the mat to bump fists with Aithan.
“Thanks, Dario. Not totally back, but getting a little work in.”
“Can’t stand sitting on your butt, eh?”
“Hell, no.” Aithan gestured toward his office. “It sucks to sit in there, watching you guys have all the fun.”
“No doubt,” said Mags, another class member, as she joined them, stretching her shoulders as they talked. “How’re you feeling?”
“Better, thanks. Seeing my GP today and hoping he clears me for tougher workouts.”
“Any word on catching the guys who jacked you up?” Dario asked.
Aithan shook his head. “Not yet. I’m resigned to never knowing. Can’t worry about it, you know?”
“Sucks, man,” Beth said.
Aithan shrugged. “I’m still kicking, so I’m gonna live my life. Insurance came through on the SUV and I’ve got a new phone, credit cards, and ID. All that’s left is healing.”
