Maybe it was because he always started out the workouts so quiet, still half asleep. But by the end, he was griping and giving me a hard time. It was the perfect balance. Still getting that hit of peace but not feeling so alone.
Brody and I had slipped into a routine of sorts over the past couple of weeks. Working out in the mornings and having breakfast together before I headed off to take care of my tasks for the day, and he locked himself away in his makeshift studio. More than a few evenings a week, we’d meet to share dinner, sometimes a board game or a movie. Everything had remained light since that day at lunch where Brody had shared with me what had driven him from New York. I’d learned that he hated mushrooms and had a soft spot for old Westerns. He’d discovered my addiction to Skittles, how I always had to eat them sorted by color, and that I was a sore loser at Yahtzee.
None of the discoveries were Earth-shattering. Nothing left me feeling in danger or exposed. But as they piled up, they created this slow, steady pull towards the man who now lay sprawled out on the sand. His long-sleeved workout shirt rode up just a bit, revealing a V of muscle that had me swallowing and averting my gaze.
“What’s your plan for the day?” I asked.
“Besides crying because you were so mean to me?”
I laughed, but it turned into a grimace as my shoulder and ribs protested the action. I rubbed at the joint, trying to relieve the flash of nerve pain that often acted up after a hard workout or a long playing session.
Brody sat up. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I might’ve pushed things a little too hard today.” I dug my fingers into the flesh at my shoulder, searching for the trigger point that might provide relief.
He pushed to his feet, crossing to me. “Looks like more than that.”
“Just an old injury.” It wasn’t a lie, but I was sure Brody would think a sports incident or a fall from the monkey bars, not a stab wound inflicted by my brother.
He reached out. “Here, let me. I’ll get a better angle.”
I moved in a flash, scrambling back. “N-no. Thank you. I’m fine.”
Brody’s eyes widened. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to cross a line.”
Everything in me seized at the hurt in his eyes. Pain that I’d put there. “No. It’s not that. It’s just a tricky issue, and if people don’t know what they’re doing, it can hurt.” And if anyone massaged the tissue there, they’d feel the scars. Healed wounds that I didn’t have an explanation for.
His stance relaxed. “Oh. That sucks. Are you seeing a doctor or a physical therapist?”
“No. I did for a long time, but there’s nothing else they can do. It’s not a big deal. It only bothers me sometimes.” And every time it did, I was reminded of that night. How the pain I felt now was only a flicker of what it had been. The days I’d spent in the hospital. The weeks in the rehab facility. The months of physical therapy afterwards.
Brody’s brow furrowed. “Maybe it’s worth checking out what’s available on Anchor or Shelter. There could be new treatments available that you don’t know about.”
“I keep pretty up-to-date,” I lied. “There’s nothing new.” More like there was nothing but a life-threatening emergency that would get me into a doctor’s office. I didn’t have insurance, and I didn’t need the paper trail.
The sound of an approaching boat had us both looking out at the water. Cal waved as they pulled up to the dock and tied off. Manny hopped out, followed by Sam and Hunter. “Morning,” Hunter greeted. “You guys are up and at it early.”
“She’s a drill sergeant,” Brody accused.
“One you chose to follow,” I pointed out.
“I didn’t know you were going to take pleasure in trying to kill me.”
Hunter chuckled. “Shay, maybe you can come whip my crew into shape next.”
“Please, God, no,” Sam said, widening his eyes comically.
“Don’t even think about it,” Cal broke in. “Building houses is enough of a workout for me.”
Hunter shook his head. “Then get up that hill and get to work so I don’t have to employ this one.” He hitched a thumb at me.
They started down the dock and towards the path, but Sam slowed his steps as he approached me. “How are you doing this morning?”
“Just fine. And you?”
“Better now.” Apparently, Sam hadn’t been put off by our awkward encounter a couple of weeks ago.
I felt heat at my back. Brody. And I could feel the glare he was sending Sam’s way.
Hunter gave him a shove. “Get going, Casanova.” Sam jogged up the path without another word. Hunter turned back to us. “Framing’s almost done. Should move on to getting you some walls soon.”
“I never thought I’d be so excited about walls,” Brody muttered.
Hunter grinned. “Just wait until you’re over the moon about insulation. I’ll see you guys later.” With a wave, he was off.
I stepped back from Brody, away from the heat that tempted me, urged me to burrow closer to him. “I’m going to grab a shower and then head into town for a mail run.”
“I think I’ll come with you, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not.” It was a lie. I needed hours in the day separate from Brody, away from the pull he had over me. It was in those hours I could remind myself that while we were friends, he was also my boss. And with one action, he could rip my sanctuary right out from under me.
“What?” Brody asked, humor filling his tone as he strolled down the main street of Anchor next to me.
“You’re going to go into a diabetic coma if you try and eat all of that.”
He raised a brow. “I’ll share some of it with Hunter and his crew.”
“You got two dozen pastries.”
“I’m a growing boy.”
“Growing so much that you could barely carry the boxes?” We’d had to make a stop back at the boat to unload before finishing our errands.
“What can I say? I can’t resist a cupcake. And they had some crazy stuff in there.”
The Mad Baker and its owner, Jules, were known for wildly decorated confections and coming up with flavors you wouldn’t always predict went together. Sea salt brownies. Chocolate blueberry muffins. A rainbow cake that exploded with sprinkles when you cut into it.
“You know, you live here now. You don’t have to try everything on your first visit.”
He shrugged. “Life’s uncertain. Eat dessert first.”
I could respect that approach to life. I smiled up at Brody as he opened the door to The Exchange for me. “Just as long as the blue velvet cupcake is mine.”
“I wouldn’t dare steal your precious. And not just because I’m a gentleman. The way you were eyeing that sucker tells me I might lose a hand if I tried to take a bite.”
A bark of laughter escaped me. “I do like my sweets…” I opened the Harbor mailbox first and handed the mail to Brody. Then I moved to my own box, pulling out a handful of items.
We headed back into the chilly winter morning. The air had a bite to it. One I loved. It reminded me that I was here and breathing. Brody and I were both quiet as we cut through the park, sorting through the assorted envelopes in our hands.