Betad by kitchmill. Mistakes are my own. I've changed/added/subtracted/cut a chap and added to 2 others since D so yea, mistakes are definitely all mine.

Preread by Hoodie.


This early post is dedicated to all the night shifters who had to work an extra hour today / Sorry, Boos x


3


"All right, final warning," I said from the doorway to Brady's room. "Five minutes and we're out of here. I mean it, mister. Get up!"

I headed to the kitchen to grab a Pop-Tart for both our breakfasts. Neither one of us were morning people, which always made for a challenging start to the day. Sometimes on the weekend I actually tried to be a good mom and made real food for breakfast. But until I got a personality transplant and became a morning person, packaged goods would have to do for the weekdays.

"Brady Robert!"

"I'm coming!" he bellowed in his father's same booming voice, muttering something under his breath before moping into the kitchen to grab his bag from the chair and the Pop-Tart from my hand.

I knew better than to speak to him until I'd pulled up to the curb for drop-off, where I wished him a good day then kissed my fingers and touched them to his cheek. God forbid I leaned over and kissed him for real. He would die of humiliation.

From there I headed to the free clinic where I worked as a volunteer nurse for four hours a week. If I could do more I would. This clinic had been a lifesaver for my mom and me when I was growing up.

After my dad was killed in the line of duty, we received a lump sum of life insurance but lost the medical, dental, and vision aspect of it. This place had it all on certain days at certain times, all free.

I saw my mom and myself in a lot of these single-parent families who walked in and out of here, desperate and sick, just looking for a break.

Going to nursing school was my way out of the cycle. A way to take care of myself and my own. Volunteering my time to the less fortunate was my way of giving back for our break.

The majority of the morning consisted of fussy kids with ear infections and a handful of near misses with projectile vomit. They were just lucky they were cute.

Besides that, the fast paced vomit-dodging made the day go quicker. Before I could say Promethazine my shift was over and it was time to head over to Jake's Gym just down the street.

High fiving Jake himself, I headed to the back to change into something more flexible before having my ass handed to me.

When I first started working out, it was at one of those fancy gyms with a smoothie bar and women who were way thinner than me running around in nothing but leotards. Needless to say, that didn't last long.

I'd almost given up and accepted I'd be overweight forever until I noticed the small sign in Jake's window letting the public know they were offering free sessions for kick-boxing.

I was skeptical when I first walked in. The place was straight up old school like in Rocky. But that was what I ended up liking most about it. No pop music piping overhead. No obnoxious group classes. No treadmills, no elliptical machines. No beautiful, thin women flaunting their tight, perfect bodies in your face. Here you lifted. You used your body. You pulled on a pair of boxing gloves and sparred the sweat out and the fat off.

"Two more reps," Paul—my own personal younger, cuter Mickey—said, but really meant seven. After a year of him training me I had picked up on the torturous games he played.

Once I finished the two reps with the weighted barbell Paul demanded one more, then another until I'd done five more total. I did a sixth just to be a smartass and maybe show off my progress a little.

"Just for that, give me five burpees."

I groaned, dropping the bar in its slot, but Paul ignored me.

"Now. Go." Widening his stance, he crossed his arms over his chest to better appreciate my pain. "See you do an extra one of those."

A year ago I wouldn't have been able to pick myself up off the floor once I got there. I could barely do a push-up on my knees the first month. I'd come a long way from where I'd first started. The gut was gone, the back fat had melted away, my butt was rounded out, and my arms had actually formed into some sort of shape besides wings.

I felt great. More than great. I felt strong. I felt happy, healthy, excited to be alive. Most of the time.

That excitement turned to anxiety when I remembered Alice and my plans tonight. The plans she planned in front of me but without me. I could have killed her for it. Put my hands around her scrawny little neck and strangled her.

"Last one. Hold for a count of ten on the high plank."

Fuck, I hated planking. I hated Paul.

Sweat poured from my hairline and rushed toward my eyes. I squeezed them shut, wiping my forehead on my shirt sleeve.

My arms shook beneath my weight but I held it together until the countdown stopped then I crumbled, rolling to my back.

"I want another trainer," I huffed at him.

"You wouldn't know what to do without me."

"I'd get by."

"Any other trainer wouldn't know what to do with you."

I lay there breathing heavily while Paul stood over me staring down, a look in his eyes I'd never seen before. Or maybe just one I'd never let myself notice, like Alice had mentioned when we were leaving the fairgrounds yesterday.

"You had no idea that Masen guy was hitting on you, did you?" she had asked and shook her head when I shrugged. It wasn't like it happened everyday.

According to Alice, Masen had been fishing for information the whole conversation. Said it was almost painful to witness how oblivious I was.

"I've been meaning to ask. Emmett giving you any more trouble lately?"

"Always." Finally having caught my breath, I took a much needed sip from my water bottle.

"Well, if it gets to be too much, me and the guys are always here, ready and willing to put him in his place. Just say the word and it's done."

Lifting a brow, I lowered the bottle from my lips and recapped it, letting out a quiet laugh. "Thanks, but it's not that serious."

Paul nodded, grabbing a towel to wipe down some of the equipment we'd been using.

"So, you got any plans for this evening?" he asked, catching me off guard. He'd never asked me that before. "Some of the guys are going out tonight. Figured you might want to come along. Get out of the house for awhile or something."

"Oh. Uh … Yeah, actually. I do. My friend Alice is dragging me back out to the rodeo to meet up with this guy. But thanks."

"For her?"

"Huh?"

"The guy. You're meeting him for her?"

"Oh, kind of. Though, I think it's more of a set up."

Paul nodded again, reaching a hand out to help me up, pulling so hard I pretty much slammed into his chest. My hand flew to his peck in an attempt to balance myself. I immediately pulled it away.

"Sorry." Head down in embarrassment I tried to back up.

"What for?" Paul asked, keeping me in place by not letting go of my hand.

"Uh ..." Not knowing what to do I laughed lightly. "Not being able to accept the invitation, I guess." I shrugged. "The inappropriate touching." I lifted the hand he didn't still have a hold of, gesturing out the act of grabbing his incredibly solid man boob.

He ended up laughing, too.

I felt like an idiot.

"It's no problem."

"Okay well, same time next week?" I asked, my heart pounding.

What the hell was going on with the men in this town? Was there something in the air? Had they all been drugged? Or had it always been like this and I just hadn't noticed? Could I really be as oblivious as Alice said?

Nodding, Paul finally let go of me and put his fist out.

I pounded it, same as always, then took off for the locker room. I couldn't get out of there fast enough.

"You just don't see yourself like others do. You never have. I mean, it's endearing, really," Alice said. I had just shared what had happened with Paul while we were getting ready for the evening ahead. "You were a hottie before you got into shape and you're even more of one now. You have a beautiful face and flawless, olive-toned skin. Long, gorgeous brown hair. All the moms hate you. Except for Angela and me, of course. We love you. But the others have always hated you."

"They have?" There I was thinking it was the other way around.

"Well, yeah. Why else wouldn't they invite you to the get-togethers?"

"There are get-togethers?" I asked, bemused.

Alice nodded. "Every Sunday night."

"And they ask you to these get togethers?"

"Every damn week."

"Do you go?"

"Hell no. Not once. I have a busy life and Sunday nights are for soaking in my brand new bathtub. It's so deep the hot water runs cold and I have to boil water to finish filling it." Alice looked off in a daze for a brief moment, a longing look on her face before shaking her head. "Besides, I can't stand those bitches. You know that."

I pursued my lips in thought.

"Don't worry so much. It makes your forehead wrinkle." Alice grabbed my hair and tugged. "Everything's going to be fine once we get a few drinks in ya. You'll see," she promised, handing me a pregame cocktail. "It's not like I'm asking you to marry the guy, just to take that new bod out for a spin with him. Let loose a little, ya know?" Alice shimmied, her reflection slyly smiling at mine in the mirror in front of us.

"I know you want to. The connection between you two was electric. I could feel it. Mike could, too. Why else you think he stepped in between you the way he did? No one wants to take you out for a test drive more than Mike, except for maybe Masen, and it has him shook. He's had his eyes on you for a long time. Even before Jess left."

"Stop." This conversation was making me ill. Thank God Brady was at Alice's house with her mother. We'd both be mortified if he heard a peep of this conversation.

"I know what I'm talking about, Bella. Have you even had sex since you and Emmett split up?"

"With another person?"

"That's what I thought. Such a waste of a good Brazilian."

I chose to not engage, sipping my drink and trying to forget the time I let Alice test different waxes on my poor unsuspecting nethers.

"Your split ends are terrible. You really need to stop fiddling with your hair so much. The dark shade makes them stick out like a sore thumb. Mind if I cut off a few inches? It'll still be well below your shoulders."

"Sure. I'm due for a trim anyway." I couldn't remember the last time I had my hair cut or makeup and nails done. I had been so focused on losing the weight I didn't even think about the rest of the package.

But that ended today.

It ended now.

Alice bypassed the concealer and foundation and went for a more bronzed look. Light and shiny on lips, long and dark on lashes after she had me wipe my whole body down with dry oil.

"This way you'll be nice and soft when he touches you. And that smell." She sniffed my exposed shoulder. "He won't be able to control himself."

"Jesus, Alice. What are you, my pimp?"

"I wish. I'd make a small fortune off of you."

I smacked her arm with the back of my hand. She grabbed my wrist and got started filing my nails. After a prime and paint I was ready to be clothed.

Alice pulled out a black, strapless bra and short, crocheted halter top. "You wear this bra underneath like it's part of the top," she explained as I fingered the holey fabric. Half in shock, half in excitement that she thought I could possibly pull this off. "It'll lie just below your ribs and this …" she pulled a red, flowy, flowery skirt out of her bag. "This rests high on your waist, above your belly button but right below the top so there's just a sliver of stomach showing."

Hesitant yet open minded, I changed out of my robe and into the outfit with Alice's help, trying my best not to seem too scared when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The slit in the skirt came clear up to the bend of my hip.

"I knew you'd look super hot in this. Like a gypsy goddess."

Laughing, I rolled my eyes then went back to looking at my reflection in the mirror because holy shit if she wasn't lying.

"This isn't me. This is makeup and body oil and good taste. You're the one who worked the magic."

"To look this good there's gotta be a little bit of magic in you, too, babe. You're like a mythical creature. A unicorn."

"Which is it? Am I a gypsy or a unicorn?"

"Can't it be both?"

Downing the rest of my drink, I handed the glass back to Alice, not as self-assured as her. "I'm going to need another one of those before we go."

As if I were paying her, Alice made me another drink with double the alcohol, then we were out the door.