Page 59 of Hat Trick
“I’m sorry it’s cramped in here. I had to rearrange the room so I could fit an extra reformer. I wanted you to have an area to try the exercises you feel comfortable with, and I thought it might be better than putting you front and center.” Her posture straightens and she smiles again. “There’s no pressure to do any of the workout, and I’ll be showing modified moves if you want to try those instead.”
“Thanks,” I say. “I’m going to try my best. I, ah, did some research earlier. I read a couple articles that said Pilates helps to align the body, which is important for people who?—”
“Experience postural imbalances due to the loss of a limb.” Lexi nods, eyes bright. “I read that article too, and I immediately thought of you.”
I know it’s part of her job, but the idea of Lexi spending her free time researching ways to help me sends a rush of exhilaration up my spine. It makes me imagine there’s a world in which she’s doing it because she wants to, not because she has to. Because she likes spending time with me, not because she’srequiredto spend time with me.
The thought makes me puff out my chest and stand taller. It gives me some of the confidence I haven’t been able to find since the accident.
She told me it takes a lot to impress her, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure I have her attention.
“Thinking about me in your free time, Lex?” I ask, testing the waters.
Lexi smirks and takes a step closer to me. Her finger touches the center of my chest, and the press of her nail into my thin shirt is enough to send my brain reeling.
“Sounds like you might be thinking about me,” she says. “Looking up the exercise I teach? Keeping your word about showing up? I’m going to pretend it’s because you missed me.”
I did miss her.
I haven’t skipped a single rehab session since the morning she barged into my apartment like a tornado and we had that good conversation. I’m at the arena every day, putting in the work like I’m supposed to, but with the season underway, she’s had to adjust our schedule to accommodate the other guys who are starting to get aches and pains.
I didn’t travel with the team for their first extended set of away games of the season last week, sitting at home while they played back-to-back games in Oakland, Dallas, Denver, and Toronto, and I’ve been looking forward to spending time with her again.
“I’m only here to watch Grant cry,” I say, and that makes her laugh.
“I made sure the class was going to be hard as hell just for him,” she says.
Lexi pulls her hand away from my shirt and spins on her heel, heading for the front of the room. I do my goddamn best not to drop my eyes to her ass, but I fail miserably. I only blink out of the trance I’ve fallen into when Hudson drops his towel on the machine next to mine and snaps his fingers in my face.
“You’re staring,” he tells me.
“No, I’m not.” I pull off my hoodie and slide out of my shoes. “And mind your fucking business, Hayes.”
“Deny it all you want, Mitchy. But I see everything, and your subtlety is shit.”
* * *
Lexi wasn’t kidding.
Her class is hell on earth. I know I’m weaker than I used to be and still trying to figure out how to move this new body of mine, but even Hudson, who’s normally a fucking rockstar at Pilates, is struggling next to me.
“What the hell?” He wipes his face with his damp towel and chugs half his water bottle. “I don’t remember her being this cruel last season.”
“Last season you were busy flirting with your personal chef.” I put my hands on top of my head and try to control my breathing. “You didn’t pay attention for half the class.”
“And I’d do it again,” Hudson says smugly. “You’re moving really well, dude. Looks like you’re getting some of your flexibility back.”
“Really? Because it feels like I can barely touch my toes. This prosthetic is heavy as fuck.” I haven’t really been participating today, but it’s nice to get my heart rate back up and do some of the upper body moves.
“How’s everyone feeling?” Lexi asks through her microphone, and Grant wails.
“Like I’m going to die,” he whines from two rows in front of me. His thighs shake, and he digs his fingers into his muscles. “This is torture. Hell. The worst thirty minutes of my life. What did we do to deserve this?”
“I talked to the Oakland athletic trainer when we were out in California, and he told me some of the cross-training his players do to prevent injuries,” Lexi says.
“They had the worst record in the league last season,” Connor calls out. “Who cares what they’re doing?”
“They’re a team on the rise and going to be one to watch over the next five years. The only way you all are going to be Stanley Cup champions for the third time in a row is if you work harder than everyone else and do things they aren’t doing. You have to be the best on and off the ice, and that includes training underused muscles.”
