Chapter 5
8 Months Ago
Gemma
It was winter time and Us and Them were doing a spread on getting a great body for winter vacations to the beach.
You don't have to wait until summer to get in shape! Get fit for Christmas and your winter vacation, and stay feeling great all year round!
That was the general idea of the piece, and I had been asked to put together a workout system to help people get 'bikini-ready' in only 4 weeks. It didn't seem to bother my editor that I wasn't a fitness and health professional. All she wanted was something to fill the magazine.
I had begun to get the feeling that this job wasn't going to be the sort of role I wanted. I'd hoped to be out there interviewing people and gathering the views of experts so, in this case, perhaps interviewing a local personal trainer and getting them to write up a routine. I'd get the piece done, and they'd get a bit of publicity if I included their name and website in the piece.
But no, it wasn't really like that. I'd been at the job for about 6 months and it was clear that my job was to offer filler. Maybe one day soon I'd be given a bit more responsibility, but not right now. A quick search on Google was all I really needed to find the information I'd need.
On this occasion, though, I wanted to get some first-hand info, at least play at being a proper journalist to see how it fitted. Maybe Mrs Banks, my editor, would be impressed if I took the initiative? Maybe she'd see that I had a lot more to offer than simply copying and pasting?
I decided to go down to my local gym and talk to a few of the personal trainers there. I knew if I told them I was from the magazine they'd be willing to help me out, even if I didn't put their names to the article. A simple suggestion that I might be able to offer them some form of promotion in the future would get them interested. Personal trainers were always looking for new ways to increase their client list.
For a couple of hours after work I spoke to a couple of different women working in Lift, the most popular gym in town. They were both in incredible shape and had been working in the industry for over 10 years each.
They both had an hour between clients and were more than happy to talk to me about the most effective workout systems for quick weight loss and muscle toning. I knew a bit myself, so wasn't surprised when they said the main focus needed to be on diet, with exercise a distant second. Nutrition, I said, was being handled by someone else, so all I needed from them was an effective workout system.
After a couple of hours I had a load of great notes to work with. I mean, I knew that I could have found the exact same information online, but I didn't care. Even though it was outside of work hours, it felt so much more gratifying talking to people and gathering the information face to face. I actually felt like a real journalist.
By the time I was ready to go home it was beginning to get late and quiet on the gym floor. Only a few stragglers remained, pumping iron and lumbering along on treadmills. I walked off down the corridor back towards the entrance, passing by a studio as I went.
A flurry of quick movement caught my eye through the thin glass window and I stopped suddenly, intrigued. Inside was a young man, his hair darkened with sweat, launching his fists ferociously at a punching bag. He ducked and swerved to the left and right, dancing around the bag and sending it flying this way and that.
He looked to be about 6 feet tall, his body shining with perspiration. He wore only shorts, every muscle on his abs so defined as he twisted and turned. His arms moved fast, his punches like lightning, his eyes set on the bag, never looking away.
Then, suddenly, he saw me, his eyes darting up towards the door and through the window. I instinctively stepped to one side, as if caught spying. I guess that's exactly what I had been doing.
I made a move to carry on down the corridor towards the exit, walking quickly away. I felt embarrassed to have been caught ogling him like that. I mean, that wasn't what I was usually like. Before I could go ten feet, however, I heard the door open fast and a voice from behind.
“Like what you saw did you?” the man spoke, his tone teasing.
I turned around and my heart leapt from inside my body. The guy was the spitting image of a boy I once knew, only older. My best friend when I was younger, the boy who'd given me my first kiss.
“Umm,” I mumbled, not quite knowing what to say.
He walked forwards towards me, his body glistening. “I'm only joking,” he said, holding out his hand. “My name's Cade. I haven't seen you down here before.”
I gathered my words, still struck by his similarity with Zack.
Zack...I haven't though about him in years.
“Er yeah, I'm just here on assignment.”
“Assignment?”
I nodded. “I work for Us and Them...you know, the lifestyle magazine. Just been talking to a few personal trainers for a piece about weight loss.”
He looked me quickly up and down. “Really. So you're a journalist?”
“I guess so,” I said, smiling. I liked the sound of it, but my job could hardly be called journalism right now.
“That was impressive in there, do you box professionally?” I continued, moving the subject quickly along.
He nodded slowly, “I'm getting there,” he said with an air of confidence. “Just looking for my shot at the big time.”
Aren't we all.
I couldn't keep my eyes off his face. He was so much like Zack it was unreal. Those rare green eyes, the shape of his face, even the sound of his voice. I must have been looking at him like I'd seen a ghost or something.
But then, of course, Zack did have brothers. He told me he had several of them, actually, and that they all had a similar look to them. Maybe this was one of them.
“So are you going to tell me your name?” he asked as I stared on.
“Oh, it's Gemma.”
“Well it's great to meet you Gemma. Maybe you should come down here more often...not that you need to workout or lose weight or anything.”
His eyes shot up and down my body again.
“No, you don't need any work at all.”
I might have thought his words were sleazy but for the charm with which he delivered them.
“Thanks, that's good to know.”
My mind continued to swim. I wanted to flat out ask him if he was Zack's brother but something held me back. I chose a different track.
“This is gonna sound weird but you look familiar. Do you have any brothers?” I asked casually.
“Um, yeah I've got four actually. Crash and Kyle are older and Jude's younger.”
OK, that's three.
“And the last one?”
“Oh, he's the same age. Well, about 10 minutes younger actually.”
Holy shit. He has a twin!
“His name's Zack.”
My heart literally dropped to the floor, but I desperately tried to keep my cool.
“Why do you ask? Do you know one of them or something?”
Shit. “Er, no, doesn't ring a bell. I must have been thinking of something else.”
I had no idea why I was lying.
He looked on at me quizzically, as if he knew I wasn't being completely honest.
“Hey, so I need to grab a quick shower. I just wondered whether you'd like a grab a drink afterwards?”
This was so bizarre. Everything about him reminded me of Zack. The way he smiled, the way he spoke, those lights behind his deep green eyes. I wanted more.
“Sure, that sounds fun.”
His smile grew, thin, sexy, dimples appearing on his cheeks, just like Zack.
“Great! Give me 10 minutes and I'll meet you in reception?”
I nodded. “Sounds perfect.”
….
It was less than a week later than I sat, for the first time, watching Cade box. He was charming, funny, and intelligent. Pretty much everything that Zack had been.
The fight itself wasn't something I was interested in, but I was compelled to want to spend more time with Cade. Knowing Zack so well as I did, it was fascinating to get to know his twin brother as an adult. I imagined that it's exactly how Zack would be now.
Maybe soon I'd see him again, for the first time in years. A smattering of nerves always began to build in me at the thought.
Cade won his fight and was jubilant after. He told me it was set to be his toughest bout yet, a real scalp for him if he could get through it, hopefully by knockout. He did, and with ease. He told me he'd felt inspired, more confident than he ever been before.
He told me, right there after the fight, that I was his lucky charm.
It was that night that he kissed me for the first time. I felt almost guilty doing so at first but was drawn to him like a magnet. That kiss turned to sex in his apartment, a beautiful open planned space overlooking the river.
He was wild and insatiable, his body brimming with adrenaline following his victory. I couldn't help but be caught up in it, even though it wasn't what I'd usually do. I had only met up with him a couple of times. Usually I'd go at least four or five dates before putting out.
In the month that followed he fought twice more, each time insisting I come watch him. He said my presence gave him an edge he didn't have before, that he was sharper, faster, stronger, under my gaze. I hated the fighting, but I couldn't say no, didn't want to say no.
He ended up winning both fights as he had before, early and by knockouts. His intensity in the ring was in such contrast to his energy and jubilation afterwards, this bustling smile exploding from his face as soon as he saw me after his victory.
Things moved faster than I'd ever have imagined, but still the image of Zack lingered in my head. Cade spoke of him often, of his family, of his father, but I never revealed the truth: that Zack had been my best friend, my first kiss, the first boy I'd ever really cared for.
Then, roughly 6 weeks after I'd first met him, Cade's father was murdered, shot dead in an hotel room. I didn't see him for about a week after as he spent time with his family. I wondered if he'd told them about me, if Zack knew. It made me nervous to think that he did.
When Cade invited me to the funeral I knew then that I'd be seeing Zack again. I thought about not going, but Cade told me he really wanted me there.
When I saw Zack, standing next to Cade over his father's grave, I felt a huge surge of nerves. I wondered how much he remembered of our time together. I wondered whether he even cared.
I guess, soon, I'd find out.