Page 28 of Work It Out
Is this the last we’ll hear of Rayah Summers?
Some moments happen in slow motion, while others whiz by. Then there are rare blips in time when the brain knows things are happening so quickly there’s no altering the course, and yet it slows down to process every terrible detail in high definition. Rayah watched the color bleed from Jake’s face and his body weave, knowing this was one of those horrible hybrids.
One second he was picking up his end of the beginner’s balance beam, the next it slipped from his fingers with a thud. Panic flashed in his eyes. He stumbled back and fell on his butt, a whispered “crap” the only noise he made between suddenly harsh breaths.
She’d seen this before. Serious athletes tended to view things like physical limitations as nothing but hurdles to be jumped. They pushed their bodies to the edge, then kept on pushing. Oftentimes, this was what that lapse in judgment looked like: momentary tachycardia, shortness of breath, sharp decrease in blood pressure, and the sudden and violent need for the stomach to evict all contents.
Thank God Chad had left twenty minutes ago. He’d been driving her nuts all week about upping her insurance coverage. If he caught wind of this, she’d never hear the end of it.
Rayah dropped her end of the beam and strode calmly to where her biggest liability sat on the mat, chest heaving, and shoved his head between his knees. “Do you need a trash can?”
His face came up covered in sweat, eyes glassy and unfocused. “Fine.” He shook his head. “Be fine. Need a second.”
Uh-huh. His words slurred drunkenly into one another, but he was fine. Right.
He’d had multiple, sweaty sessions with Pierce today while on a restricted diet at high altitudes he still wasn’t entirely used to. Oh, he’d tried to hide his symptoms all day, but she’d seen it. They hadn’t been this bad, though.
She had to get him to focus on something else. Arms crossed over her chest, she stared down at him. “You puke on my mats, I will kick your ass.”
A loopy grin tipped up one corner of his mouth. “Got ’em all fooled, don’t you?” He chortled. “Can’t fool me.”
Her breath hitched. “What?”
“Pshh. Everyone thinks you’re so mean.” One hand gave a sloppy wave toward the gym floor. “That’s what you want ’em to think, but I know better. I don’t always see a lot, but I see that. I see you.”
She held her breath. What did he think he saw? For years now, she had been mean. Not on purpose. She couldn’t seem to help it. With her guys, it was mostly minor burns made to fit into a subculture where women weren’t always welcome. With the rest of the world…well, they generally sucked, and she’d stopped hiding that opinion at seventeen.
But she hadn’t always been mean. She hadn’t always been closed off.
Jake reached up and tugged on her hand. “Sit with me.” He still looked like death, but seemed to be coming out of his episode. His eyes were more focused and some of the color had returned to his lips. His words only slurred a little when he whispered, “Did the kids see? I don’t want them to freak out. Why do people always freak out? Someone always wants to call an ambulance.” He shook his head as if the thought was asinine. “I don’t need no stinking ambulance.”
He wasn’t making much sense, unless he worried she’d follow through on the promise she’d made his first night about having him carted out by squad. A glance at the kids told her they hadn’t seen him go down. They looked curious but not frightened.
He tugged on her hand again. Playing along, Rayah laughed and tumbled down beside him as if he’d pulled her there. “Just smile,” she murmured as the kids jogged back. To the group, she said, “Sorry, kids. We’re out of time, and Mr. Newman is beat. But he’ll be around. You can show off your moves another time.”
Mason rolled his eyes. “My grandpa says getting old ain’t for sissies.”
The girls gasped and Rayah started to scold him for being rude, but Jake’s chuckle stopped her. “Your grandpa’s right, kid.”
“Don’t move,” she whispered to Jake before jumping to her feet. “Come on, folks. Grab your bags. I’ll walk you up front. And remember, you pinky promised to keep our guest’s visit a secret.” She gave them her sternest frown. “The pinky promise is a sacred vow. You desecrate it at your peril.” The younger ones nodded with a sort of bemused solemnity, probably having no clue what half those words meant but recognizing the tone as serious. Mason radiated anticipatory glee that told her he was thrilled not to have taken that hallowed oath. None of it mattered. She had to get them out before they caught on to the fact that Jake wasn’t simply tired.
He’d be fine; she wasn’t worried about that. She was, however, worried about social media posts with him sprawled out on her mats like roadkill. Facts got twisted all the time. With her luck, the internet would have her convicted of his murder by midnight.
The kids shouted goodbyes as they filed out, Rayah bringing up the rear. She found Pierce standing in front of the elliptical Melissa Jenkins was using for a leisurely stroll. “Sorry to interrupt.” She smiled up at Melissa as she grabbed Pierce’s elbow. “I need to steal him for a minute.” She didn’t wait for a response from either of them before dragging him away.
“Way to cockblock, Ray.”
She snorted as she led him away. “This is my business, not your personal Tinder. Besides, Melissa isn’t going to sleep with you, numb nuts. She has the hots for Nate, and neither of you are sleeping with a client.”
“Stupid freaking pretty boy,” he grumbled. “One of these days, I’ll break his nose. Level the playing field.”
“Oh, sweetie.” Rayah patted his arm. “There’s no leveling the field with someone like Nate. They’re not even playing the same game as the rest of us. I mean, look at Jason Momoa. He got his face sliced up in a bar fight, and it only made him sexier. Some people just can’t do ugly.” He might not do it for Rayah, but Nate was easily the prettiest man she’d ever seen. Gorgeous coal black hair and bright green eyes. Sharp cheekbones, strong jaw, and stubble almost as expertly maintained as his six-pack. He was an underwear model for a reason. “But we have bigger problems. Your boy almost passed out. I need you to drive him back to the cabin and stay with him until I get there. And for the love of God, get more water in him. This has to stop.”
Pierce took off before she’d finished speaking.
Up front, parents and kids milled around. It always took a few minutes for everyone to clear out, but tonight the chatter had a decidedly exuberant vibe.
“Oh my God!” Sammie’s mom squealed. “Chris Moloughney is back?”
