Situations like these made him wish he had a brother or sister he could call up for advice. Someone who could either tell him to let Emma go or encourage him to be patient. Wait to see what happened next.
He sighed. “I could use a little guidance here, God.”
Did Emma talk to her sister about him? If so, what did she say?
He tried to imagine how he’d feel if his sister came to him about a similar situation. Would he encourage her to get involved with a guy like him?
Marty frowned. That he couldn’t immediately say yes, at least not from an outsider’s impression, bothered him.
The truth was, Marty had always hoped to get married one day, settle down, and start a family. All goals he’d given up ever attaining after his accident.
If that’s what you want, then maybe you should act like it.
The thought hit him as he pulled into the parking lot of a burger joint. He found a place to park and mulled over what seemed like a completely random realization.
What did flirting with women really get him? Proof that, for the most part, they enjoyed flirting back? Because it was all superficial and pointless. He’d eventually have to get past that first impression and go out on a date with one of them. He’d have to tell her about his leg. She’d eventually see him remove his prosthesis and the idea that she—this theoretical potential partner—would look at his limb in pity was something he couldn’t handle.
No, he’d never had any intention of pursuing a relationship with the women he flirted with.
Until Emma.
She was the first person he’d opened up to about his accident, and she hadn’t made him feel weak. He wanted her to consider him someone to confide in, too.
Marty had to stop trying to prove to himself that he didn’t need anyone, because it wasn’t true. Instead, he wanted to be the kind of guy he’d approve of his fictional sister dating. He spent several minutes in prayer before finally going inside to get lunch.
8
If she hadn’t seen it herself, Emma would never have believed it. Marty went an entire week without flirting with any of the women who came into the gym. That included the lady who clearly joined the adult classes specifically because he was teaching them.
Thankfully, she only attended once. The fact Marty didn’t give her special attention—even when she blatantly tossed her hair and fluttered her eyelashes at him—must have made paying for future classes less appealing.
Marty’s change in how he acted around women also meant he hadn’t flirted with Emma. Something she should be relieved about.
Except that, other than saying hi and smiling, he’d been giving her space. Space she’d said she wanted. And now she missed him. Not the flirting, but their weird conversations. While he could annoy her faster than anyone she’d ever known, he could also make her laugh. It was almost worth putting up with the first to be on the receiving end of the second.
How messed up was that?
A shadow fell over the paper she’d been staring at. She looked up to find Caleb watching her considerately. “I wanted to check in with you.” He tipped his head toward the gym floor. “Is everything okay between you and Marty?”
Had their little disagreements and banters been that obvious? She did her best to keep her embarrassment at bay. “We had some misunderstandings.” She shrugged. “It’s been a little weird this week, but we’re okay. I’m sorry if it’s made anything here more difficult.”
“It hasn’t—at least not as far as our customers are concerned. I wanted to make sure neither of you were uncomfortable.”
“No, I’m okay. I appreciate it, though.” Emma paused. She’d been thinking a lot about what the doctor said, the fact that she did need to exercise more, and she had to quit letting her insecurities with Marty take over everything else. “Look, I know I’m supposed to work until six. I was wondering, could I get off work at five Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and start attending the adult class?”
Caleb’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I have no problem with that. I help coach so I’m around to handle the front.” He glanced in the direction of gym floor. “Marty teaches that class. Are you sure? You could come on Saturdays instead.”
“I would consider it, except that my doctor insists I get regular exercise. I’m pretty sure he’s thinking more than once a week.” Emma swallowed hard. She hated talking about her health. “I’m here already, it doesn’t leave me much in the way of excuses to not attend, you know? Plus…”
“Plus you get free classes for working here.” Emma nodded, and Caleb smiled. “Put yourself on the class roster, then.”
“I appreciate it, Caleb. Thank you.” She watched her boss check on a few things as he wandered through the waiting area and back to the office. It seemed weird to add herself to the list, knowing her first class was tomorrow night. It only seemed fair to warn Marty in case he had an issue with her attending.
Oh, and she’d need to bring some gym shorts and a shirt that wasn’t quite as restrictive as the shirts she normally wore. Preferably something that didn’t gape at all at the neck to prevent her scar from showing.
Emma already regretted her decision but resisted the urge to erase her name from the list. She’d put off getting in shape long enough. If she’d started out exercising like the doctor had told her, would she have avoided getting hypertension in the first place?
She could second guess herself all day long. Instead, she tried to focus on the work in front of her. Classes ended and everyone cleared out, leaving the mostly empty building prior to open gym. She rounded the counter and released a groan when she saw the puddle of dark, sticky liquid on the floor beneath one of the chairs.
