“Fifty is nothing. Quit your bitching and let's do this,” he says, pumping me up.
I ignore him and adjust my stance before starting. With the first hit of glove to pad, I feel a rush of excitement.
“Harder,” he commands. So I do just that, each strike intensifying with more power than the last. My abdomen starts to ache slightly. The power behind each hit is probably not helping the situation, but I can’t stop the need to keep going.
“That’s it, girl. Keep those feet planted,” he continues to instruct. My body takes over; the rush of hitting something hard and fast is like no other, and before I know it he calls, “Fifty.”
My arms drop to my sides, heavy from their actions. The familiar burn in my muscles set in.
“Shit, Holly. You’ve got a good arm on you,” he compliments, shaking out his hands.
“Thanks,” I grin, feeling lighter than I have in a long time.
“Let's do a combination this time,” he suggests, banging the pads together. “Left, right, left. You got it?” He demonstrates, and after the first go, I pick it up easily.
“Left, right, left,” he continues to instruct as we build the momentum. My body feels alive with each jab, each hook, and each connection to the pad in front of me. We continue to work out for another thirty minutes, only stopping when someone walks into the room to set up for their class.
“What are you doing now?” I find myself asking after we pack up our equipment and walk out. I’m not sure what that whole session has done to me, but I’m feeling fresh, alive, and for the first time, present in the moment.
“Day off today, so nothing planned,” he says, stopping out the front of the female locker rooms. “What about you?”
“Same, but I have to do some planning for Kadence’s bachelorette party.” I know I wasn’t excited about planning it to begin with, but now it’s happening, I can’t wait to throw her the best party ever. He nods and we both stand there waiting. For what I don’t know, but for me, it’s the fact that I don’t want to leave, which is confusing considering only a few weeks ago I didn’t even want to be around him. “I’m going to go and get a Gym Junkie juice after I shower. I always get one after a workout,” I mention. “Do you want to come with?” I ask. The invite doesn’t even feel awkward; the ease between us grows each time we see each other.
“Sounds good,” he agrees. “Give me ten minutes. I’ll meet you at the front?” he questions, walking the rest of the way to the male locker rooms.
“Okay,” I nod in agreement. I can shower and look half decent in that time. Pushing through the doors, I stop and call out to Sy, “Thanks for today. It helped,” I add, not sure if he understands how it helped, but just letting him know is enough.
“Anytime.” He gives me his signature head nod and leaves me standing like a goof. Gathering my wits, I get through my shower and meet him out the front in less than fifteen minutes.
“You ready?” he asks, looking up from a fitness magazine when I come to stand in front of him.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
The walk to the juice bar is silent. The quietness is settling, even taking us to a comfortable place again. I don’t know what this is with Sy and me. I can’t pick the exact moment everything changed, but nonchalance now flows easily between us.
“Have you ordered here before?” I wonder when we walk into the bright green juice shop.
“No, first time.” He raises his brows playfully before reading the board above the counter. I’m going to have to get used to this new side of Sy.
After ordering my new favorite, Raspberry Reflex and Sy choosing a post workout smoothie, we sit out in the morning sun.
“We should work out like that again,” he mentions, taking a sip of his Bone Crusher. “What the fuck is in this one again?” he queries, his face scrunched up in distaste.
“It can’t be that bad?” I smile, picking it up and sipping it. The chocolate and peanut butter smoothie is disgusting. “It’s all right.” I shrug, hiding my distaste and handing it back to him. “We should do this again. I had a good time. Who knew punching you could be so much fun,” I joke and he looks taken back for a moment. “What?” I ask when he keeps looking at me.
“Nothing,” he shakes his head. “I’m free tomorrow. Tell me what time and I’ll meet you here.”
“Okay,” I agree. I’m not sure what I’m getting into with him, but I did have a good morning; a good morning punching him that is.
“Great,” he states, taking another sip of his awful smoothie. I can tell he doesn’t like it by the pained expression on his face, but I don’t say anything. I just sit quietly, savoring the moment. Who knew enjoying a juice with Sy would be so relaxing?
“Oh, and if we’re going to work out again, you’re going to need some different clothes,” he adds, taking us right back to where we began. I swear the need to punch him again burns strong, but I don’t reply like he wants me to. If he thinks this is revealing, wait until tomorrow.
***
“Holly, I love it,” Kadence says from the cream sofa in front of the full-length, mirrored wall. We’re shopping for bridesmaid dresses, and I stopped caring what she chose twelve dresses ago. Our quest to find the perfect maid-of-honor dress wasn’t planned. Kadence sprang it on me as we were in town looking for bachelorette supplies. She lured me into the shop with promises of wedding gown samples, not bridesmaid’s gowns.