Page 52 of Work It Out
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Jake found Rayah on the gym’s back deck.
The sun was sinking below the horizon, its dying light seeming to set the mountains on fire. She lay on a chaise longue at the far end, away from the building’s massive wall of windows and nosy occupants. Her hands were wrapped around a mug, her eyes closed as the day’s last rays played against her skin. She looked beautiful but exhausted.
“How’s our roomie doing?” she murmured as he approached, never opening her eyes.
He smiled. That would be her first question. “She’s out cold on the couch. She wants to stay until after Christmas, if you’re sure you don’t mind. She’ll pay for her room, of course.” Or he would.
One eye slid open as he climbed the stairs to the deck. “I’ll pretend you didn’t say that because I’m too worn out to smack you. Of course she can stay. We’ll talk about money later.”
Jake expected her to protest when he lifted her legs, sat down on her chair, and placed her feet in his lap. She watched him with cautious, curious eyes, but she didn’t object. He counted that as a win.
Because he wanted to pretend he hadn’t ruined everything for a moment longer, he said, “She’ll need something to do. Vicky and idle time are a match made in hell.”
She hid the tiny twitch of her lips behind her mug. “Dare I ask?”
“The last time she got bored between seasons I came home to find all of my furniture had been replaced with fancy, expensive stuff.”
Her eyebrows popped up. “She redecorated your house without asking?”
“Condo, but yeah. To be fair ‘frat house chic’ wasn’t a good aesthetic. You have nothing to worry about.” Knowing he was pressing his luck, he tugged off one of her tennis shoes, then the other and tossed them to the wood planks. When his thumb dug into her arch, she moaned. He squirmed and tried to think about kale.
“What did you have in mind?” she asked, voice husky.
Groveling. And kissing. A lot more kissing. Her lips were fucking incredible, so plush and soft. Then he’d take her back to her office and—
“What skills does Vicky have?” Rayah continued. “Has she ever had a job that wasn’t acting?”
This moan was his.
She pinched his side with her toes. “Your mind’s wandering.” The heat in her eyes told him she knew exactly in which direction his mind had traveled—and that she had no intention of following, no matter how much she wanted to.
“I’m so sorry, cupcake.” She stiffened, so he talked faster. “I promised Pierce this morning that I’d tell you tonight. You have no reason to believe me, but I did. He begged me to tell you sooner, but—”
“You never should’ve kept it from me at all.”
“I know.” He hung his head. “Believe me, I know. It’s complicated, but that’s no excuse. Especially after everything that’s been happening between us… I’m an asshole.” His fingers slipped up her calf to knead the tight muscles.
She didn’t contradict him, but she didn’t kick him away, either.
“How did it go with Chad?” Reminding her of that mess was the last thing he wanted to do, but he needed to know.
She lay there, letting him massage her legs for an excruciating second. “Samuel handled it before I could. He assured him that the new, more extensive waiver he’s drawing up as we speak—along with an affidavit absolving both me personally and Explosion as a whole of responsibility for any harm sustained previously, including but not limited to when I charged you today—will be signed this evening or you’ll be asked to leave until a mutually acceptable resolution can be reached.
“Of course, I still had to endure Chad mansplaining the importance of gym safety and covering my ass. Oh, and we’ll be subjected to random, weekly safety inspections, the premises and equipment as well as all my client waivers. But I keep my house in order. That shouldn’t be difficult. Making my face keep its tone down was a trial, but I got through it.
“I told him that while Samuel’s not an attorney, he’s been surrounded by them since birth and he’s phenomenal with contracts. I’d say it’ll be as ironclad as it gets. Samuel also mentioned what a field day the American Civil Liberties Union and the media would have with an insurance provider that dropped clients because they refused to discriminate against people with disabilities.”
He was glad she’d be all right, but ouch. Sure, being the human equivalent of a fainting goat sucked sometimes, but it hadn’t impacted his life enough to make him feel like that word applied to him. Even when it cost him the first woman he’d ever loved, he’d told himself that was a fluke, that Yvonne would’ve found a reason to push him away. The exhaustion that had plagued him on a cellular level? That could be blamed on the unforeseen complication of his first-ever bout of altitude sickness.
Logically, he knew having a disability didn’t make him broken, had thought he was above that ableist, bullshit mentality. But words like “disability” hit differently the first time they were applied to you.
He cleared his throat. “I’ll sign whatever you want. Vicky will, too, but I promise there’s nothing wrong with her.”
Rayah slowly pulled out of his grasp and sat cross-legged facing him. “There’s nothing wrong with you, either, Jake. But you have to know today changes things.” She set her mug on the side table, probably wishing she hadn’t banished Granny’s vodka from the premises. The sadness in her eyes made his stomach clench even before the words spilled out. “We were stupid to start anything in the first place.”
He’d known it was coming, but there was no ducking the blow. “This is about my POTS, isn’t it?”
