Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 53034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
“Sure, go for it,” I say.
She nods. “Okay, let’s warm up with some jogging in place.”
We both start lightly jogging, and she looks down at her chest, where, if I’m being honest, I was already looking.
“Shit,” she says under her breath. “I don’t have the right bra on for this.”
Her breasts are bouncing up and down, so she puts her arms over her chest to stabilize them. In the moment, I’m disappointed, but it’s probably for the best. Turner would choke the life out of me if he saw me ogling his daughter’s breasts.
“Those were more manageable before I gained weight,” she says lightly.
I don’t let myself tell her they’re absolutely perfect. She’s curvy, and I wouldn’t change a thing about her body. I prefer women with softness and a nice, squeezable ass.
After about five minutes, she stops jogging, her cheeks flushed a sexy shade of pink. “Okay, now we’ll do some arms. Let’s do arm circles.”
“So you work in kinesiology?” I ask.
Isaac rips a huge fart, his groan so satisfied it sounds sexual. “Oh yeah, that felt good.”
I just shake my head as Talia’s lips quirk.
“He does this before every game?” she asks in a hushed voice.
“Every single one.”
She widens her eyes in an expression that’s half amusement, half disbelief. “I worked at a school for students with physical disabilities before,” she says.
Before Kyle Macintire blew up her world. A fresh wave of disgust for that douchebag flares in my chest.
“Guess you know what happened.” She’s looking away, not meeting my eyes. “Everyone does.”
I’m not pressing her on it. After a moment of silence, she says, “Bigger arm circles now. Really control your range of motion, don’t just let them fly.”
“What did you do there?” I ask.
She gives me a confused look.
“At the school.”
“Oh. I was sort of a gym teacher, but it’s a private school, so they called me their adaptive physical activities instructor. I made sure every student did some form of exercise every day, and the goal is to make it fun.” She drops her arms to her sides and walks over to a weight bench, picking up a bar without weights on it. “You know how to do shoulder pass throughs?”
“Yep.” I take the bar and put it out in front of me, not bending my elbows as I raise it up over my head.
“So we did a lot of wheelchair games, like wheelchair hockey and basketball, and relay races, but with things other than running, like you have to roll your chair around obstacles. Music and motion was always really popular with the kids. I did a lot with exercise bands. It’s not just about the activity, but also inclusion. Some kids can’t really do much, so they would get to participate with someone pushing their chair. I never, ever did anything where the kids pick teams because I hate that with a passion. Someone always ends up last and it’s bullshit.”
I had observed that she’s attractive, but seeing her talk about her work puts it on a whole new level. She can get worked up—I already knew that—but seeing her get worked up over making sure no kid feels excluded, now that’s just fucking hot. Not that I can act on it.
“Is that as far back as you can get it?” she asks as I lower the bar back behind my head.
“Nah, I could get it farther.”
“Go as far as you can without causing discomfort.”
Another fart tears through the air, Talia laughing this time.
“I get what he’s trying to do with fart yoga,” she says. “The science is there.”
“That’s right!” Isaac calls out from his back-down position on the floor, where he has his arms wrapped around his knees to hold them against his chest. “I’m a trailblazer!”
“That pose is called apanasana, and it’s very similar to the one you wanted to do when we started,” Talia says to me. “It has lots of benefits.”
“Smelling Isaac’s farts isn’t one of them.”
“Torso twists,” she says, meeting my gaze with an amused gleam in her eyes.
“Morning skate, guys!” one of our assistant trainers, Zack, calls out from the doorway.
“I’m not done with fart yoga,” Isaac protests.
“We’ll do it again later,” Melina says.
“I knew you loved fart yoga,” he quips.
“Yeah,” she deadpans. “I love it so much.”
I have to go change and do the morning skate with my teammates, but I’d rather stay and talk to Talia. I linger as long as I can while everyone else files out of the room.
“Thanks,” I say when we’re alone. “Let’s do this again tomorrow, but build in enough time to do everything you want.”
She smiles at me, her expression wry. “I appreciate it, but you don’t have to do that.”
“Do what? Pregame stretches? You want me to get injured, Turner?”
“You know what I mean. You don’t have to make me feel helpful and useful.”