Preslee glanced back at the gym doors, and nervous energy raced through her veins once more. She swiped the back of her hand over her brow. God, she was already sweating profusely, and she hadn’t even started working out yet. Maybe she could just do that for a daily workout instead. Park outside the gym and panic for half an hour at the terrifying thought of going inside.
Hell, at that rate, I’d be skinny by the end of the month.
Preslee fought back a grin at the silly thought and then shook her head. Okay, enough. She couldn’t allow herself to stall any longer. She was going through those gym doors, whether she liked it or not. Woman the hell up.
With another frustrated sigh, she heaved herself in the direction of the Body Shop’s entrance, her sheer determination forcing one foot in front of the other.
Too bad she didn’t get far.
Preslee had been so focused on the doors and talking herself into walking through them that she misjudged the curb and caught the toe of her sneaker on the edge of it. She tripped, stumbling forward with arms flailing, before landing on all fours onto the hard concrete sidewalk. Pain ripped through her as the metal car keys in her right hand stabbed into her palm and rough cement scraped both knees.
Ouch! Dang it.
Wincing, she rolled over to sit on her butt and checked her palm first. A purplish indention marred her right hand, and while it hurt a little, at least the skin wasn’t broken. So she dusted off her dirty palms and then rolled up her leggings to check her knees. Angry red patches glared back at her where the concrete had skinned them, and a small cut marked her left knee where a sharp rock must’ve bitten into the skin.
She was bleeding too. Great.
As if it wasn’t embarrassing enough, a truck chose that moment to rumble into the parking lot and pull into a nearby space. The last thing she wanted was for someone to walk up and find her sitting on the ground looking like an idiot. So Preslee quickly hobbled to her feet and limped toward the gym’s entrance. She probably should’ve gone home to clean her bleeding knee, but dang it, there was no way she was going to give herself an out. If she did, she had no doubt that she would take it and never come back.
Uh-uh. No way. She was going to do this even if it killed her. And, at this rate, chances were good that it probably would…since she hadn’t even made it into the building without hurting herself.
She shook her head. Gym, one. Preslee, zero.
As she opened the glass door and stepped inside, a rush of cool air wafted over her, and she let out a contented sigh. Thank God. She hadn’t been entirely sure whether the gym would have air-conditioning or not. But now that she thought about it, any building that wasn’t climate-controlled in the South Texas heat would probably be a death trap for everyone inside.
Preslee glanced around and took in the unfamiliar surroundings. The large one-room space was of substantial size and had a warehouse feel with high ceilings and black rubber floors. Mirrors lined the back wall, and there were rows of machines and other equipment available for use toward the front of the gym. While the place wasn’t exactly packed, there were a dozen or so people scattered throughout.
Her gaze landed on the check-in desk to her left, and she moved toward it, trying not to limp. A blond male stood behind the counter. He looked to be in maybe his late twenties or early thirties, and his large biceps bulged against the tight sleeves of his black T-shirt that sported a white Body Shop logo.
He glanced up from a clipboard as she approached, and surprise registered in his eyes before he managed to mask it with a good-natured smile and a friendly hello. She might’ve been insulted if it hadn’t been for the fact that she was just as surprised as he was that she was inside a gym. “Uh, hi. Is this where I sign up for a new membership?”
He nodded and leaned on the counter with one hand. “Yes, ma’am. Are you looking for monthly or yearly?”
“Um, monthly, I guess.” Jeez. That almost sounded like a question.
His smile widened. “All right,” he said, reaching for a paper and sliding it across the counter with a pen. “Here’s a form you’ll need to fill out. The monthly rates are at the bottom, and the gym rules and other helpful information are on the back. But feel free to let me know if you have any questions. My name’s Kurt, and I’m the manager.”
Preslee nodded. “Great, thanks. By the way, you don’t happen to have a Band-Aid back there, do you?” She held up her knee to show the small amount of blood oozing from it. “I scuffed it in the parking lot on my way in.”
“Let me check.” He pulled a first aid kit from beneath the counter, popped it open, and rifled through the contents. “Hmm, we should probably restock this kit. Looks like this is the only thing we have left,” he said, holding up a long white bandage. Then he shrugged. “It might work.”
She accepted it. “It’ll do. Thank you.”
After applying the bandage to the small cut, she realized she couldn’t cover it with her leggings without the stretchy fabric pulling tight across her sore knee. And that hurt too much. So instead she left her legging up over her kneecap and hoped that no one would notice how dumb it looked.
She glanced back up at Kurt, who wore an amused grin on his face. Well, no one else anyway.
The gym manager continued to smile as she moved off to the side and read over the information on the form he’d given her. She couldn’t really blame him. Although he didn’t say as much, she looked like she was wearing a panty liner on her knee.
When she was done filling out the form, she slid it back across the counter along with his pen. He asked for photo identification, which she provided, and then she paid him her first monthly fee.
Once they completed the entire transaction, Kurt handed her a black, plastic membership card with the Body Shop logo on it. “You’re all set. Any questions?”
Yes, but she was too embarrassed to ask them. “Nope.”
His smile weakened, and his voice softened, as if he knew she was lying. “All right. Well, I’m here if you change your mind.”
“Thanks.” Preslee gave the good-looking man a polite smile and then walked away from the check-in desk, although she wasn’t really sure in which direction to go. How did anyone know where to start?
She traipsed up and down each aisle, looking for a machine labeled for beginners, but apparently they didn’t make those. The more she glanced over the equipment, the more uncertain and self-conscious she started to feel. Especially when her slow progression around the room began drawing unwanted attention.
Two buff guys lifting and clanging weights on the other side of the room both wore smirks as they followed her movements with their eyes. Maybe they were fascinated by her inability to choose a machine due to her lack of knowledge. Or maybe they weren’t used to seeing a newcomer who didn’t know what the hell she was doing. Or maybe they were just riveted by the fact that a plus-size girl was going to actually work out. Who knew? But it only made being inside the gym that much more intimidating.
Determined to ignore their beady eyes staring her down, Preslee glanced to the next row over and spotted a stair-climbing machine. Oh, that one looked simple enough. Who couldn’t climb stairs? And she’d probably be great at it given how she ran up and down a set of stairs at work all the time. Her dad’s antique shop had only one storeroom, and it just so happened to be located in the basement. Lucky her.