What do you do for a living?
I had to be as true to real life as possible to give this an honest review, but even with three glasses of merlot in me, I had enough sense not to allude to Best Life or journalism, so I typed “assistant” instead.
What are your specific short-and long-term goals?
It had been over a year since I’d been with anyone, and even then, I didn’t always feel fully comfortable naked. It wasn’t something I’d ever shared before. Taking another big drink of wine and deciding to be honest, I typed “to look and feel good naked.”
Is there anything you’ve always wanted to do that your health and/or perception of your body has held you back from doing? Jumping out of a plane.
Something about mass and velocity and all the townspeople below. I thought about adding my joke but figured it might not be the place for self-deprecating humor. It was one of the few things my weight had kept me from doing, and I’d been sad in college when I learned there was a weight limit.
I reread my answers, fingers hovering over the track pad. Just do it. I clicked the button to submit the form. I guess I expected the Rocky theme to blare from my speakers, but I received a confirmation saying my registration would be reviewed and I’d be assigned to a coach within one business day.
Here we go.
4
“WHOA.” THE CHAIR squeaked as Cord spun, holding my phone. “Kelsey wants to get together?”
I grunted from where I was doing sit-ups on the floor of his office. It was the third message in two weeks, and I hadn’t responded.
“Are you going to meet with her?”
“Are you planning meetings with any of your ex-girlfriends?”
“My exes don’t run rival companies. What do you have to lose?”
Just my pride, my resolve to move on, and maybe my lunch. I didn’t answer, instead ramping up the speed of my reps.
Cord huffed, returning to his phone screen. “Fine. But do something, ’cause I am tired of this version of you.”
“This version of me?” I finished a set before switching to cross-body crunches. My abs contracted as I pulled my elbow to my knee. We’d just finished a conference call with some of our investors and our head of accounting. Good news all around, and everyone was making money, but I’d struggled to stay involved in the conversation. Lately, my head always seemed to be somewhere else, and the quick ab workout gave me something to do.
“Yes. This twitchy version. Like a caged animal that’s pissed off. What’s going on? Is it Kels? Something with your mom?”
No, it’s February. “Nothing.”
“You’re a shitty liar.” Cord returned to his keyboard, one worn sneaker propped on his denim-clad knee. With him in jeans, a T-shirt, and Chucks and me in workout clothes and sneakers, we could have starred in a movie called The Unlikely CEOs.
I finished the last set and fell back onto the thin carpet, staring up at the exposed ductwork in our trendy downtown office space. The Realtor had told us it added edge and sophistication—it reminded me of living in crappy, unfinished basement apartments where everything always smelled damp.
Freshman year, Cord and I were roommates in the most run-down and cheapest dorm on campus. He was there because he hadn’t gotten around to submitting his housing contract until the last minute. I was there because it was the least expensive option I still couldn’t afford, even with my football scholarship.
He handed me a water bottle. “You can’t ignore her forever.”
“I can ignore her today.”
He fixed me with a deadpan expression. “Mature.”
My body readjusted after the quick workout, and I sat up, flipping him off.
“You just did Eight Minute Abs on the floor of my office after spacing out during a meeting with the money guys.” A twinge of frustration had seeped into his voice.
Fuck. The rough, notched surface of the bricks was cool against the back of my head, and I took another slow breath. “Sorry. I’ll get my head back in the game.”
Cord shrugged and brushed the hair from his forehead. “I know.”
Pearl popped her head past Cord’s open door, and I noticed him straighten in his chair, which made me bite back a smirk.
“Hey.” Cord’s voice came out higher than normal, and he cleared his throat before repeating it in his regular register.
“Hi, Cord.” If she noticed him acting like a middle schooler with a crush, she had the grace to ignore it. Instead, she gave him a warm smile, and I swear his chest puffed out. “You need anything before I go, Wes?”