Shit. He kept his expression neutral. “You’re going to work out now?”
She nodded. “Is that okay? I like to get it over with in the morning. I need to change things up so I won’t be using the treadmill. I’m going to try yoga again. Then I’m going to try meditating, also again.”
He raised his eyebrows as he listened. She seemed almost nervous, and he had no idea why. She was normally so pulled together. “Again?”
She stared at him from over the rim of her glass. “I haven’t been too successful in the past. I’m kind of high strung, and I don’t think my muscles relax enough to actually stretch and bend. As for meditation, I have a really hard time shutting off from the world. My thoughts wander, jump to all the things I have to do in the day. Since I’m off work, this might be the time to try and see if I can do.”
He leaned against the counter, putting his weight on his good leg. It was interesting to hear her talk about herself with that self-derision. He kind of felt bad that she thought of herself that way. He wanted to tell her that she wasn’t high-strung. But that would be awkward. And maybe she was. What did he know? He cleared his throat. “I’ve never been much of a yoga or meditation person myself. But it’s worth a try. Supposed to be good for you.”
She nodded, her face relaxing, and finished the rest of her drink. “Yeah. We’ll see. I’ll head down there. If you want to use it first, though, I can always stay up here.”
He shook his head. “No, go ahead. I’ll just wait until you’re done.”
She grabbed her phone. “Okay. Thanks. Oh, and help yourself to the leftover pizza in the fridge.”
Her ponytail swayed as she left the room, and he forced himself to turn away. He shouldn’t be noticing her hair or eyes or the curves of her body. The last thing he needed was to be noticing her in any other way than a platonic relationship. Eyes, shiny hair, curves, perfect face, full mouth, all that was nothing he should notice. Or think about.
His phone vibrated on the counter, and he picked it up, already knowing it was Ben. How was your first night with Melody?
He gritted his teeth. Figures his brother would make a joke out of his misery. He typed back quickly. I wasn’t with her. We are in two separate bedrooms.
I know. I just meant how was it?
There was no “it” to describe. She went to bed. I went to bed. Now she woke me up because you have a dumb Vitamix in the house and she made a smoothie before five in the morning. Now she’s in the gym and I’m waiting to use it. Is that enough detail for you?
He only felt mildly bad as he waited for Ben’s answer.
Great detail. I’ll be sure to fill Molly in.
Glad I could help. Don’t you have baby furniture to assemble or something?
Already done two months ago.
Of course it was. He couldn’t even begrudge his brother. He and Molly deserved all the happiness and this baby. Between their mother, who basically told everyone who made eye contact with her that she was about to become a grandmother, and Ben, who sadly had started telling everyone he was about to become a father, things in Shadow Creek were getting a little too over the top. But he was happy for them. Then go bring Molly some coffee or something.
Done.
He frowned. Go to work.
It’s my day off. Which reminds me, Mom is harassing me about Christmas. When are you coming back?
Ugh. He put the phone down on the island. They never gave up. If he had been on a vacation, Ben would have asked him when he was planning on getting his lazy ass back to work. But his brother hadn’t asked him once when he was coming back or when he’d be ready to be evaluated. It pissed him off. Because that meant Ben didn’t think he should come back. But he could. He didn’t want Ben to write him off. It was still early days with an injury like this. He ignored his brother’s question and stared out the window at the pristine white snow, the same view day after day.
He was going stir-crazy in this place. He had never been in one place for so long. Melody here was definitely going to make his life a bit more complicated. It would mean he’d have to hide the way he was struggling because he didn’t want her to report back to the family, and he certainly didn’t want her pity. If there was one thing he’d learned this year—his family could not hide pity well. But she didn’t strike him as the pity type. She did look like she was hiding something, though. As far as he knew, she was single, so it probably wasn’t a bad break up or anything. It couldn’t be career related because she was as brilliant as Molly was, and those two had achieved more than people twice their ages. It could be their mother—she was a disaster, and he only knew half the story there.
When he’d walked in the kitchen this morning, there had been a sadness on her face, as clear as the blue sky outside. So maybe he wasn’t the only one running. Maybe that would make her stay less intrusive. They could just stay on different schedules and interact as little as possible.
He glanced over at the remaining green smoothie in the Vitamix and decided to pour himself a glass. It would be stupid to waste it. He could use all the energy he could get anyway. As soon as she was finished in the gym, he was going to prove to himself that he was getting better. He just needed to work harder, to rebuild the damaged muscle. In the meantime, he would research other opportunities on his own.
…
Melody scowled at the instructor’s face on the Barre app as the woman gracefully and easily stretched her long legs in front of her and then lowered her upper body until she touched her toes. How the heck could she do that? The instructor folded her top half over her bottom half like a perfectly pressed sheet.
Melody gritted her teeth and paused the segment and attempted to do the same, except she only made it to her shins. This was ridiculous. She was in good shape. She ran. And she ran around the hospital, on her feet for hours a day. How hard was it to fold over like that? She tried again and swore when she felt something snap. She clutched her lower back. Clearly her muscles didn’t work like that. Fine. That was fine. Baby steps. She would try again tomorrow. And then the next.
She rubbed her lower back and eyed the treadmill. Maybe she’d just stick with running. Running had always agreed with her. It was a perfectly acceptable way to relieve stress. Maybe yoga and all that stuff was just overrated. She could drink decaf tea if she needed to relax.
Or she could just not exercise at all…and just mope around on the house all day, avoiding Christmas movies. She sat up a little straighter and rolled her shoulders. She could drink coffee, put on a warm sweater, and pretend that she wasn’t running away from life. She could eat all the comfort food she’d brought and not worry about achieving any kind of goals other than brushing her teeth and showering. Yes, she could totally run away from life.
Except life was upstairs—in very fine form, thanks to Finn. Staring at the treadmill, she went back and forth about exercising and realized this was the first time in her life where she was avoiding it. Normally, she used it as a way to stay strong and energetic in a demanding job or for stress relief. She didn’t need that anymore. Who cared if she was strong and energetic? Stress? She had none now.