Body Lock (3 page)

Megan moved across the room and sat beside me on the couch. “You’re right. That’s not what Scott was about. He loved everything about you. All of your curls and quirks. Your giving nature and huge heart. He loved the way you couldn’t wait to get your hands on a new book or the way you preferred take out to being around actual people. Damn, he even loved the way you used the word fudge as a cuss word.”

I giggled through the sob welling in my throat.

Megan played with one of my wet curls. “That’s why I don’t get it. I don’t understand. Why are you trying to change all of the things he loved about you?”

My pale skin flushed. Blood soared through my veins, the surge causing my heart to beat faster. “What’s the point? He’ not here anymore. He’ll never tell me what he loves about me again. He doesn’t care anymore. He’s not a factor.” I cradled the pillow tighter, praying the tears would wait until I was alone.

“Dakota, you’re making things harder on yourself. Yes, it’s true. Scott’s gone forever, but his imprint on your life is here to stay. Why are you working so hard to destroy that? You think I don’t know what you’re doing, but I do.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I was unable to look at my omniscient friend. She could see right through me.

“Don’t play dumb. I know you better than you know yourself and I’m not going to let you do it.”

“Do what?”

Megan folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not going to let you kill yourself.”

I bolted from the couch. “You’re out of your mind!”

Megan followed and met me toe for toe. The walls were closing in again. My pulse raced. I inhaled through my nose and slowly released the air through my mouth to try to steady my breathing.

“Scott’s gone and I think you’re losing it.”

“Scott’s gone because he was a big idiot who wouldn’t listen to reason. Who gives a shit if he had a big heart, if he’s not here to share it? He was always sticking his neck out to help someone. I told him it was going to get him in trouble, but he never listened. His big heart and always having to be the nice guy got him killed. I’m not letting the same thing happen to me. No more of the nice Dakota. No more of the meek and fragile Dakota. No more of Scott’s Dakota. It’s my turn. I’m not trying to kill myself. I’m taking my life back. I’m finally ready to live.”

“Honey, I get that. I do. But it scares the shit out of me the way you’re going about it. You can’t keep going down this collision course. It’s going to catch up with you.”

I took a step back, shaking my head. Heat flooded my eyes. “I don’t know how to do anything different.” The dam broke. Tears pooled before spilling over and down my hot cheeks.

Megan pulled me in for an embrace. “I know, sweetie. Let me help you. It’s what I’m here for, okay?”

Unable to form words, I nodded.

“Do you think it would help if you go talk to someone?”

“No!” My eyes widened. The thought of having to share Scott with a stranger made my stomach somersault.

“Okay, don’t freak out. We’ll table that idea for now. What about focusing on something positive? Instead of this new badass scary adrenaline shit you seem to be into, why not find something that still has the same effect, but has a positive impact as well?”

I had no idea what the hell she was talking about, but I had to give her credit for trying. She wasn’t screaming at me or smothering me like a wounded child.

I tilted my head. “I’m listening.”

Megan paced the length of the room, rubbing her chin, before coming to an abrupt stop. “What about the gym?”

“I don’t think I can do that. I’m not ready. It still makes me break out into a sweat when I drive by the building.”

“Okay, that’s not a problem.” Megan planted her hands on her curvy hips and smiled. “Why not find a new facility? Get back up on that hypothetical horse. You love working out and exercise is a legit adrenaline catalyst.”

I let her words sink in. I wasn’t always the fitness type. In fact, I hated everything about it, including anything that had to do with my body. I had gangly limbs and no ass. My boobs were too big, making me resemble a cartoon character. I always assumed I looked like a freak. I finally got sick of my bitchy mirror and joined, Better You, a health club.

From the moment I stepped into the gym, I felt all of the judgmental backlash. Stared down by women who looked like they could be supermodels hovering around the cardio machines. I turned to leave, but never made it to the door. A handsome young man wearing workout pants and a Better You polo tapped me on the shoulder. Once I turned around, I was met with his inviting green eyes. His beautiful lips curved into a warm smile. Little tufts of black hair fell across his forehead.

I was a gym junkie from that moment on. It was his side job, but he poured 110% of himself into whatever he did, priding himself on his work ethic.

I gazed at Megan, pondering her suggestion. “Well, I have been feeling sluggish lately.”

A glint of hope shimmered in her eyes. “Excellent! It’s a plan then. Tomorrow you’ll go and find a new health club. A good one. State of the art equipment and maybe a cute trainer or two.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t start.”

Megan winked and clasped her hands in front of her chest. “I’m still keeping my fingers crossed. How about tonight we binge on crappy food and movies? Kind of like your last night of freedom before hitting the treadmill?”

I nodded, praying my optimistic friend was right. In the meantime, I put my plan in motion to get rid of my hangover with a tub of cookie dough.

“G
et your fucking hands up! If you wanna puss out, you’re not gonna do it my fucking ring. Get your shit together or get out.”

The trainer leaning over the ropes was huge. Even from across the room, I could make out his bulging muscles. He was tall with a buzzed head. He instantly scared the shit out of me.

I surveyed the rest of the area looking for an employee that wouldn’t send me running for the hills. The smell of dirty laundry and sweat assaulted my nose. Music blared from the speakers hung in the corner with duct tape. Heavy metal no less. There were no inviting green eyes or warm smiles. The sign above the door simply read, ‘Champs’. It was a small, but well utilized space. Boxing rings lined two walls. Free weights and bags lined the others, leaving an actual cage in the middle of the room. The lighting wasn’t the best and there was no front desk or greeting area. I must have looked like a lost puppy.

An older man popped out from an office. The door was labeled, Boss.

“Howdy there. Something I can help you with?” He was a short man with a mushy mustache and beady, but kind eyes.

“Yes, sir. I’m Dakota Asher.” I stuck my hand out and tried to ignore the cartwheel in my belly. “I guess I should have called, but I wanted to look into your membership plans.”

The man chuckled and wiped his hands with a bandana. “Well Dakota, I’m Jim. Everyone calls me Boss. I’m the owner of this here fine establishment. I‘d love to help you out, but we don’t exactly do membership plans here. You train. You pay. That’s about it. What are you looking to do?”

I knew I needed an advantage. There wasn’t a single woman in the entire gym. Boss was nice enough, but I caught on to his snickering. If I didn’t stand my ground, he was going to laugh me right out the door.

“I want to look into some MMA classes. I was told this is the perfect place.” I didn’t want to tell him I found his place on Google and picked it because it had a zero rating. I didn’t want to run into anyone who knew Scott.

It worked like a charm. Boss beamed. “You were told right.” He scanned me from head to toe and arched one gray, bushy eyebrow. “I’m not trying to be rude honey, but have you trained before?”

I knew I had gotten a little too thin since leaving the gym. But that didn’t keep me from trying to pull off my charade. Besides, he didn’t specify MMA. “Yeah, it’s been awhile, but I know my way around a gym.”

Even I wanted to laugh myself out the door.

He twisted his lips and nodded. I hoped Boss wasn’t a card man, because he had a terrible poker face. It was all over his face. He thought I was insane.

“Alright then. Let’s get you on a bag and we can discuss memberships later.” He grinned, emphasizing the word memberships. He was picking at me.

I jumped when Boss let out a deafening whistle. “Ford, haul ass!”

My knees weakened. My shirt moved with the hammering of my heart in my chest. I tried to maintain my composure, but the bustle of the gym still made me queasy. Blood rushed up the back of my neck as I watched Ford march across the room. He was built like a brick wall. He stood well over six feet tall with broad shoulders and a bare chest that appeared to be solid muscle. As he moved closer, I could make out his steel blue eyes and his strong, chiseled jaw. The way he wet his full bottom lip with a swipe of his tongue was mesmerizing. Even the sweat glistening off his dark, tanned skin had me captivated.

What the hell have I gotten myself into
?

“Ford here is our head trainer. Since you’ve had some experience, we’ll have him give you a run through and go from there,” Boss said.

I nodded in reply, unable to look directly at Ford. I felt like a kid trying to avoid looking at an eclipse.

“Ford, this here’s Dakota. Take good care of her.”

“Boss, I don’t think...”

“Son, not now. You’re on deck.” Boss narrowed his beady eyes, drawing his bushy brow together. It was clear that it was his way of putting Ford in check.

“Yes, sir.”

Boss gave a curt nod before vanishing back into his office, closing the door behind him.

“So, you’ve had some training?” Ford towered over me. His thick, baritone voice gave me chills. He placed his huge hands on his hips. The kind of hips with defined lines leading into a mouthwatering V, making a girl forget her own name.

I tried to sound nonchalant. “Yeah, some. It’s been awhile though, so I’m sure I’m rusty. But I’m ready to jump back into the gym. I’ve taken some time off because of, well, something personal, but I’m ready.” I clapped my hands, sounding like an eager, rambling idiot.

An annoyed expression crossed his face. “Yeah, okay. What’s your background?”

My mind went blank. I tried to draw up some sort of authenticity. What the hell was wrong with me? I’ve been in a damn gym before. I drew in a deep breath. Okay, I can do this. “Well, some kickboxing. Oh, and some Krav Maga.” One class of each to be exact, but I wasn’t going to tell Mr. Testosterone that. I tried both classes on a guest pass and decided they were too violent for me.

Go figure.

Ford’s dark eyebrows rounded, revealing the intoxicating blue of his eyes. “Nice, okay. Now we’re getting somewhere. Any grappling experience?”

I tried to focus on his words, but in reality, I was lost in the way his hypnotic lips moved when he spoke. Grappling? What the hell was grappling? I decided to take a time out on that one and shook my head.

“Rolling?” He asked with an expectant gleam in his mesmerizing eyes. My body flushed with blood soaring to all my most sensitive areas.

Feeling like I had just been caught with my pants down, I glanced around the room, surprised to find it now empty.

“Was that a yes or no?” Ford clenched his hard jaw and folded his arms across his Adonis chest.

“I’m sorry, what was the question?”

He narrowed his eyes and muttered something under his breath before responding. “Rolling. Have you done it?”

“Oh, sure.” I lied. “Well, just a little.” My insides tingled as if I was having an out of body experience. I was embarrassed and ashamed at my sudden hypersensitive sexual radar. I tried to envision Scott. His lips. His smile. The way he held me in his own well build arms. My chest tightened as the fuzzy images were becoming harder to recall.

“Why don’t we get you started on a heavy bag? Did you bring your wraps?”

My eyes glazed over.

“Your hand wraps?” He questioned.

“No, sorry. Do you have them for sale here? I’d be happy to buy a pair.”

Ford shoved a chair into a table. “Forget it.” He reached underneath the table and pulled out a bag. He dug around inside and tossed something in my direction. “Here.” He brushed past me, leaving me to fend for myself.

I unrolled the pieces of cloth and started wrapping my hands the best that I could. I was actually impressed with my skills until Ford saw the pathetic attempt.

“It doesn’t do you any good if you don’t cover your knuckles.” He took off the fabric and wrapped them himself. The heat from his colossal hands gave me goosebumps.

“There. Now let’s see what you got.”

I eyeballed Ford, who clearly was not amused. Taking a hesitant step towards the bag, I rolled my neck and drew in a deep breath.

“Ford, make sure you lock up,” Boss hollered from the front door, causing her to jump.

“Will do. Have a good one.” Ford waved one hand in the air before his gaze fell on me. He nodded towards the bag indicating that he was waiting.

I held my breath and threw a punch. Wide eyed, I was surprised at how good it felt. The bag didn’t budge, but my hand sure felt the impact.

“Go ahead. Keep going until I say stop or you drop.”

I hit the bag. My shoulders eased and I hit it again. I threw one punch after another. Months of tension dripped away with every grunt. Beads of sweat broke out across my forehead. It was euphoric. The pain and sweat. The release. It was like medicine for the soul.

Ford grabbed the bag. “Not too shabby. Let’s step into the ring and check your blocks. I know you said it’s been awhile, but it should all start coming back to you. Hands up and chin down.”

I ducked under the rope and stepped into my very first ring. I tried to replay ever TV show I had ever seen that had a hint of boxing or martial arts.

Hands up
.
Chin down
.

The words raced through my brain like a freight train.

“This is going to be simple. Nothing too intense, okay?”

I nodded. I tried to conceal my rapid breathing.

Ford’s impressive frame slipped into some kind of stance. I tried to mimic his moves. I stumbled backwards as his fist shot out. With every shot, he pumped his fist back to the sides of his face, so I did the same.