Page 2 of Work It Out
Pierce blushed—he actually blushed. Then he straightened his spine. “It’s not like you can’t afford it. And it’s a full-service package: training, meals, and boarding. Besides, Rayah’s built the best team you’ll find anywhere. I do mostly CrossFit training, but we also have an ex-Army Ranger, a physique model with a third-degree black belt, a powerlifter, a yoga and nutrition savant, and two more athletes who competed internationally, one in wrestling and one in gymnastics. If we can’t whip you into shape in time, no one can. The more I think about it, you’re getting a steal. After you tell the world who turned you into a superhero, our services will cost a lot more than you’re paying.”
“Cocky bastard.” But knowing they needed this to work as badly as he did was comforting.
Chuckling, Pierce shifted the Jeep back into drive and started up the mountain again. “I prefer confident.”
“Wait,” Jake said as one specific detail sank in. “The gym’s name is Explosion?”
Pierce sighed. “Just say it.”
As kids, they’d used the name of the town to make things sound dirty. That one was so easy it was barely worth it. “It’s a Bigbone Explosion.”
“The signs were already made. None of us had the heart to tell her. I don’t think she’s figured it out.”
“How?” They passed Wyatt’s cabin and the gym came into view. “Holy…”
A massive structure sprawled across the mountain shelf even as it blended into the landscape like it had grown alongside the trees. The face of it was comprised of windows framed by thick, rough-hewn beams. A deck ran the width of the building, overlooking a babbling creek and what was no doubt an idyllic view.
“It looks more like a swanky resort than a gym,” Jake said.
“That’s because it is.” Pierce drove along the side of the building and around to a paved lot. “We have an indoor rock wall, an Olympic-size pool, the best cardio and weight training equipment on the market, an obstacle course worthy of any military base, insane gymnastics and martial arts setups, three guest suites upstairs, and an industrial kitchen. The kitchen isn’t staffed yet, so we’ll be cooking for ourselves. But that’s a good thing. You need to learn how to maintain your new lifestyle when you leave, because that’s what it is, bro, a whole new way of living. It has to be or it won’t work.”
“No pressure, right?” Jake quipped.
“Big pressure.” Uncharacteristically serious, Pierce said, “You know this will be the hardest three months of your life, right? It’d be tough for anyone, but with your condition…” He shook his head. “It’s going to complicate things.”
Jake melted against the seatback and breathed through his nose. His POTS was already making his life hell, and he’d yet to step through the door. Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome was an autonomic nervous system nightmare. It could have all kinds of fun symptoms. Mostly the body got confused about stuff it was supposed to do on its own, especially that thing where the veins got their shit together and helped move blood everywhere it ought to go, like the brain and the heart. Some people became lightheaded or their pulse skyrocketed when they exercised too hard or climbed a flight of stairs. Others passed out all the time for no apparent reason or experienced a host of comorbid disorders that made anything approaching a normal life impossible.
Jake typically fell on the milder end of the spectrum. A bout of COVID a couple months back had placed a giant question mark on his status, though. His symptoms were more pronounced, but by how much and for how long, he didn’t yet know. Though any form of POTS would absolutely make training for an action role “complicated,” he’d never taken well to anyone telling him he couldn’t do something, even his own body.
Today, his condition meant he was so beat he wanted to lie down and not get up for a week. Since he didn’t have time for that, he opened the door, cautiously stepped out onto the parking lot, and started for the entrance.
Another slammed door later, Pierce snagged his arm. “We should tell Rayah about your POTS. I understand why you’re gun-shy about it. Yvonne was a—” At Jake’s glare, Pierce raised both hands in surrender. “All I’m saying is this isn’t the kind of thing you’ll be able to keep from her for long, even if you only work with me. She’s too smart.”
“Nope. No one but you.”
When Pierce folded his arms over his chest and glared at him, Jake added, “Come on, man. You just said the woman will look for any reason to send me packing. Which, given her financial situation, makes no sense, but I’ll take your word for it. Tell her your newest client might have trouble staying conscious, and she’ll show me the door so fast it will make your head swim.” Pierce could hate Yvonne all he wanted, but she’d merely broken Jake’s heart. If Rayah told the world about his condition, she could kill his career as an action star before it started.
Pierce swallowed. “You don’t know Rayah. She—”
“Sounds like she has enough to worry about,” Jake pressed. “I’ve been dealing with this a long time. Most people never know I have a problem. I’ve never tried to train like this. It might not work at all.” A devastating thought, but one he’d be an idiot to ignore. He shrugged. “Hopefully, it’ll be a non-issue.”
“Fine. It’s your call. But I’m warning you, when she finds out—and she will—I’m throwing your ass under the bus and running like hell.” When Jake snorted, Pierce stared right back. “Go ahead, laugh. I don’t care. You’ll understand soon enough. That girl can be scary, and I ain’t goin’ down like that. Not even for you.”
“I thought you liked her.”
“I love her,” Pierce replied evenly. “I also have a healthy respect for the fact that she could kick my ass. And if she can’t, Blaine can, so…”
“Blaine who?”
“Oh, you’ll love him. Real life of the party.” With a cryptic chuckle, he clapped Jake on the shoulder. “Come on. Rayah’s trying to set up some kind of boot camp with a resort in Flagstaff. The manager’s coming in for a tour this afternoon. I want to introduce you to everyone and show you around before they get here.”
He followed Pierce through a bank of glass doors that fed into an open reception area. A woman sat at the desk, flipping the pages of a magazine as if the thing had pissed her off. She was pretty—blond hair, blue eyes, and high cheekbones. She also had more muscle mass than most stuntmen he knew and, by the looks of that scowl, enough fire in her to burn down the building.
“Jesus, I see what you mean,” Jake whispered. At least, he understood what Pierce meant about her being scary. He wasn’t getting a Cabbage Patch vibe, though. At. All.
Pierce frowned. “Huh?”
“Never mind.” Praying he fared better than the magazine, he affixed his most charming smile and held out his hand. “You must be Rayah. I’m Jake. It’s nice to meet you. Pierce has told me so much about you.”
