“What do you need me to do?” I ask, feeling a little useless at the moment.
Anniston tears open an IV kit and pulls out the needle. It looks bigger than I remember. “Can you put up the pole and hang the fluids?”
I look at her, then at the needle. And gulp. “I think so,” I reply a little unsteadily.
She gets set up, wiping Hayes’ arm down with antiseptic and speaks softly in his ear about not swapping spit with hookers. I almost laugh at her absurd humor, although with Hayes, it’s quite possible. Hayes cracks a smile at her comment and barely flinches when she pierces his skin with the needle.
With expert efficiency, we have the fluids going in minutes. Anniston adds another injection in Hayes’ IV before covering the now sleeping man-whore and turning off the lights.
We place three more IVs before we make it back downstairs. It’s well after midnight and we are beyond tired.
“Go on to bed. I’ll get this cleaned up.” She starts cleaning the kitchen, loading the dishwasher with today’s dishes that Tim never got around to doing.
“I’m fine,” I reply, bagging up the trash.
She cuts me a look like she could beat my ass if she had the energy, but in the end, she sighs and goes back to the dishes.
What seems like two hours later we’re sprawled across the sofa, utterly exhausted. It’s three a.m. and the only thing on TV is bullshit infomercials about the best total gyms. What a joke.
Anniston is curled over my lap breathing rhythmically. My guess is she is either asleep or just about there. I’m wide awake from my impromptu nap earlier this evening. Sleep will not come to me for quite some time.
I zone out to the juiced-up dude with entirely too much oil on his body trying to sell me the fact that I, too, can look like him in six short weeks. Ha. Please.
It took months to build the muscles I have and it wasn’t from one piece of equipment. It was from hurling tires, running miles uphill, and doing push-ups while Anniston sat on my back barking about the rhythm she wanted. It was hell and heaven all wrapped up in a beautiful package.
Just thinking about the time when we trained all day brings a smile to my face. Some days I thought she hated me because of all the shit she put me through. Now I know that she was giving me control. Showing me what my body could handle. She showed me how to push on when I thought I had nothing left to give.
I stroke an errant strand of hair from her face as her chest rises and falls against my leg. Incredible. She is absolutely incredible. I don’t understand how one person can hold so much power over another. But she does. Every one of the guys asked when she was coming home this weekend. Each of them sneaking FaceTime calls to her.
We’re all fucked.
“Hey.” I whip my head around to see a rumpled Theo, his eyes squinting in the light from the TV. From the looks of it, he just rolled out of bed.
“Hey,” I return, turning back to the infomercial.
“She asleep?” he asks, coming to sit in the recliner across from me.
“Yep.”
“I’ll take her up to bed.” He rises back to his feet.
My grip tightens on her back. “I got her,” I clip out.
He stands there a moment, staring me down, but whatever he sees in my eyes makes him sigh and return to the recliner. I continue to watch the TV like he isn’t there.
“She would kick your ass if she knew you were still awake,” he says, his lip twitching in amusement.
I glare at him, annoyed that he is still here. “She would feel the same about you,” I return bitterly.
He shrugs one shoulder and smiles at me arrogantly. “You woke me with all the noise you were making down here.”
What a bastard.
I roll my eyes and get back to my program. Entertaining his bullshit just eggs him on.
A few blissful minutes of silence pass before I hear a soft groan. I look at Theo, praying he’s not jerking off or something.
He’s massaging his shoulder, grimacing in pain.
