She finished the last lift on her last windmill of the afternoon. God, those felt good. She was up to 50 pounds, and she could feel them stretching and compressing her muscles from heel to head with each twist. She passed the weight to Nick with a smile.
He grinned back at her. "You are such a masochist."
"But it hurts so good," she replied.
She watched him as he racked the weight and led her over to the chin-up machine. "You look good. Less grey," she said, letting him see her eye him up and down. It didn't hurt that he had been lifting every day to knock off the blues after his divorce.
"Thanks. Maybe it's just the weather breaking, but I finally feel . . ."
"Normal?"
"Not normal, exactly, but like normal might be something I can recognize again."
He watched her as she did a set of negative chin-ups. "You're looking good too."
She felt her expression go blank at the compliment and then forced it to relax into something like a smile. Her therapist recommended she connect with people, and the more she pretended to emote, the more she felt something like emotions resurface. "Nothing like loss to drive one to the gym, right?"
He nodded, expression turned inward.
They had developed an easy camaraderie over the last few months. She had collapsed after her husband's death and left the gym for a time. He had texted her every few weeks to see how she was doing, despite how messy his own life had turned. She appreciated it even more after she heard that he had dropped all but two of his clients; his new job and his three young kids absorbed most of his time. He and Jim had been close, and glancing at his face, she finally realized how hard he had been trying not to let his own grief spill onto her.
She realized she had spaced out when he punched her lightly on the arm. "Come on, young lady, time for some squats."
She followed obediently, trying to remember what she had been like when Jim was alive. She had been cocky, right? Striding instead of following. Poking fun and sharing dumb jokes instead of offering wan smiles and commenting on the weather.
Maybe it was time to find some of that old self again. She trotted after Nick and surprised a laugh out of him when he turned to find her inches behind him. "You practicing your ninja moves?"
The comment elicited a minor ache. Her husband had been a hell of a martial artist, but she buried the pain in a grin and said, "Hey, did you hear what the baby porcupine said to the cactus?"
He gave her skeptical look and said, "No?"
"Mommy!"
He laughed louder than the joke warranted but gave her a real smile when he recovered and said, "You seem better too. Maybe we're both a little less grey this week."
"It comes in waves, doesn't it? The pain."
"I'm learning to appreciate the happy while it's here."
She felt the heat of his body as he spotted her, his arms reaching around her to grab the bar. Did he pause a little longer than necessary after returning it to the rack in front of them? She took a deep breath, seeking the scent she remembered as his and drawing it out from the plethora of gym smells to let it curl in her hind brain, which started to purr. She gave a little shake.
He snapped his fingers in front of her nose and tapped his watch. "Come on, mind in the game. Twenty seconds."
She got back into position and lifted the bar.
Maybe it was the sun shining through the gym doors that did it. The beam made the concrete sparkle, and she was distracted enough that she grabbed his hand when he gave her a high-five instead of letting it bounce off so that she could run away. When she didn't let go, he gripped hers in return, and followed her gaze. "Pretty," he said, but when she looked at him, he was looking at her rather than the sunlight.
Startled, she tried to free her hand, but he held it tight. "I'm done for the day. Lindsey's got the kids. Would you like to go somewhere?"
She gave his face an appraising look. He was being carefully neutral, but she saw something in his warm, brown eyes that she hadn't looked for from anyone since she buried Jim. He desired her.
"Ok," she replied.
