Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Within a few minutes, her breathing was labored, and I could tell she was in pain. But she didn’t say anything.
“Just keep in mind we have hills and cobblestone streets here.” I threw that out there. “Don’t compare this to a trek on the treadmill.”
Her smile was stiff. “I’m tryin’ not to.”
I liked her Southern accent.
If I remembered correctly, she’d lived in New York too—and her picture on the website sure as fuck screamed New York attitude. Goddamn, it was a sexy picture. Right up my alley, where soft and sweet met fire and claws. That was my type.
Too bad she was a lesbian.
“I was thinking on Friday, we could meet up in Westslope and go for a quick hike,” I mentioned. “No mountain trails or anything.”
She exhaled a chuckle. “No mountains sounds good. I’m more at the level of flat pavement and handrails.”
Hm.
“I’ll dust off my hiking boots,” she added. “When and where do you want to meet up?”
“I’ll send you the address of a place called The Last Stop,” I answered. “It’s a café and gas station before the dirt roads take over. And we’ll stick to nine AM.”
We’d decided to be more flexible on Mondays; sometimes we’d meet up early, and sometimes, like today, later in the afternoon.
“Got it. What if it rains?” she wondered.
I side-eyed her. “We’ll get wet.”
She turned a scowl to the ground and absently rubbed at her lower back. “My daddy would cuss me out if he were alive to hear me complain about bad weather.” She puffed out a breath and wiped at her forehead. “I’ve become way too comfortable.”
That was a running theme in my field. Adults tended to grow lazy, especially if other aspects of their lives were hectic and too stressful.
I gestured for us to turn left up ahead, so we crossed the street when a car had passed.
“How’s the pain?” I asked.
She made a face. “Embarrassing.”
She wasn’t the first of my clients who was self-conscious about that. Some even tried to hide that they were getting out of breath. Natalie wasn’t far off. She didn’t enjoy this for a second, which posed a problem for me. We were naturally geared to avoid what we hated, so I had to get creative.
I scanned the street, regretting choosing this one. It had more activity. We’d reached the heart of the Valley, where people shopped and met up for drinks after work, and I was willing to bet it made Natalie even more uncomfortable.
“See the right turn past Sally’s Café?” I pointed. “We’re gonna aim for the outskirts of this area again. It’ll get quieter.”
She nodded once. “Okay.”
Nobody could accuse her of being weak, at least. She pushed herself and did her best to maintain her composure, but I could tell the pain in her back was becoming too much.
Once we’d made the turn onto the side street, I pointed again, this time to the opening of an alley between two closed bars.
“We’ll get some rest in there,” I said. I wanted to get a better sense of how she stretched too, and we needed seclusion for that.
She breathed heavily. “I hate this.” Then she side-eyed me. “It’s the first time I’m not seeing you in a shirt with your gym logo.”
Because I wasn’t new here. Natalie ticked all the boxes of people who were ashamed of their health’s deterioration, and the last thing they wanted was to advertise the hard work they put into their recovery. She didn’t want complete strangers to judge her for walking next to someone who definitely looked like a PT.
“I don’t have to be a walking billboard all the time,” I settled for saying, ushering her into the alley. “Let’s stretch out that pain.” No dumpsters, stray cats, or terrible smell. This alley worked. “Can you bend over and arch your back for me?”
She shot me a brief, incredulous look, and I had to smirk. Good to know her mind could head for the gutter.
“Um, okay.” She positioned herself so her ass was away from me, and she bent over a little. Not enough, but we’d get there.
“I’m just gonna touch your lower back, all right?” I asked to make sure before I stepped closer.
“Okay,” she repeated.
I went to her side and flattened my hand along the base of her spine. “I want you to push upward now, so you can stretch out your spine.”
She let out a labored breath and complied, creating an upward arc of her back.
“Perfect. Do that for a few seconds before you relax—then repeat.” I eased my hand along her back. “What does your workout schedule look like this week?”
“Um…I’m trying to get into a routine of using the treadmill every morning, and then I come back in the evening to lift some weights.”
That was good. We’d discussed that strength training was important to rebuild her muscle mass and boost her metabolism.