“The way to get better at these are to do negatives,” he said. “When you get up there, try to force yourself to go slow on the way back down.”
I did as he suggested, feeling the burn the entire way down.
“Ow,” I whined as I fell off the bar and started to wring my hands.
“Need some grips,” he suggested as he reached down for his that he’d taken off at some point in the lesson.
He threaded the sweaty material around my wrists and then cinched them down with the Velcro.
I wasn’t even the least bit grossed out about how wet they were from his perspiration.
Why?
Because the man was standing so close to me that I could smell his deliciousness. I didn’t know whether it was cologne or deodorant or what, but it was hot as hell, and I wanted to bottle it up so I could sniff it any time I wanted.
“Try those,” he suggested. “Jump up there.”
I did, and he steadied my rocking as I held on, finding that the grips did, indeed, change everything.
“Now, what you’re going to do is hollow your body out like this,” he pushed my belly one way, and my feet the other. “And pretty much do the opposite of this the other way,” he showed me that until I was rocking back and forth on the bar.
“Now drop down and watch me,” he urged.
I did, and then watched as he perfectly executed the move that I wanted to master.
The kipping pull-up.
“What you want to do when you’re back here is kind of…” he continued speaking, showing me exactly what he wanted from me.
Only, I was distracted.
He had these muscles in his back that were downright debilitating.
What would they feel like when I had my arms around his neck and was letting my hands roam…
“You try,” he finished.
I swallowed, trying to get my crazy mind back under control.
“Okay.” I nodded thoughtfully, glancing up at the bar. “Let’s do it.”
Only, after a ten-minute practice session, I could only get my chin to about three inches under the bar. And my kipping swing was allllll off.
“You’ll get there,” he teased as he snatched his shirt off the floor and put it on.
I had a feeling that with his tutelage, I would.
My breath caught in my throat when he led me outside, fear starting to slither in despite the hunky man at my side.
“Do your parents live here?” he asked.
I swallowed hard past the fear, and felt a sigh of relief sweep over me when he pulled a flashlight from his key ring and started to use it to lock the door.
It was only when we were safely in my car that I replied.
“Actually, they don’t.” I paused. “They’re dead.”
Taos winced. “Shit. Sorry.”
I shrugged. “They died when Mavis was nineteen and I was seventeen. But to be honest, they really weren’t all that great of parents, either. I mean, sure, I didn’t want them to die. But they also weren’t the kind of parents that really cared about us. They didn’t care if we made doctor’s appointments, school or even ate. Mavis, sadly, had to grow up at a young age. Both of us did, really.” I paused. “I don’t think I even went to a dentist appointment until I was thirteen.”
He blinked. “Really?”
I nodded. “Really. And I never had my shots, not because my parents were anti-vaxxers, but because my parents were anti-parents. They didn’t care. So when they died in a car crash, it was pretty sucky there for a few months, but it wasn’t like we were dealing with anything we hadn’t dealt with before. The only difference was Mavis having to get guardianship of me for a half a year.”
He shook his head slowly. “Wow.”
I nodded. “Yep.”
“My parents are gone, too,” he admitted. “They died when my brother and I were young. We both wound up in foster care. He got adopted out, I didn’t. That’s how I met Madden. In foster care right before he was ‘adopted.’ He found a permanent home with the family of the man responsible for saving his life. I found a foster home with a police officer. His wife a school teacher. They were great people, and didn’t mind teenagers in their home eating all their food.”
My face softened at that. “I’m glad you have them.”
I wished for something like that my entire life and never got it. It’d always been just Mavis and me against the world.
“They both passed away a couple of years ago. My foster father of bone cancer, and my foster mother of an infection that went to her blood a few months later.” Taos sighed. “They were how we had the money to open the gym.”
“Oh,” I breathed. “That’s really sad, Taos. I’m sorry to hear that.”
He shrugged. “It’s the way of life, sadly. It sucks, yes, but it’s also something not to be sad over. They were both old. Eighties. So though it sucks that they’re not here anymore, I know that they went together. I know that neither one of them had to live very long without the other. And I know that one day I’ll see them again.”