They’re gracious enough to give me a two-minute breather and then I’m running again, this time short sprints until I’m wheezing like a chain smoker.
My knees buckle and I flop to the grass in the middle of the track. Falling onto my back, I fling my arms wide and squint up at the sun. My lungs are desperate for air but I can’t seem to breathe in enough. Heartbeats that feel like punches to the chest are rapid and indignant.
What the hell are you doing to me? my body is screaming.
Trey bends over me, blocking the sun. Sweat drips off his hair and lands on my cheek.
“Gross.” I make a face and wipe it off.
“Rest’s over.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
I narrow my eyes at him. “What torture do you have planned for me now?”
He laughs. “It’s time to get a little energy chow, then…”
“Then?” My voice is low with suspicion.
“Coach said we could set up the Gauntlet.”
I close my eyes and force air through my nose. “I think I hate you.”
He runs his finger down my cheek—tender and sweet.
My eyes creep open and I catch a glimpse of his smile. It’s enough to turn my heart to putty. This whole more than attraction theory I’ve got going could be a real thing.
I wonder if he feels the same way?
My stomach quivers.
“Come on,” he whispers. “On your feet.”
He hauls me up and steadies me against him. No one’s around, so he lingers by my side, running his hand up my back. I want his arms to wind around me. I love the hardness of his chest, the strength of his entire being.
Not to sound cheesy, but just being near him makes me feel stronger. I need that right now.
As the cool breeze tickles the back of my neck, my heart rate returns to normal. Trey eases away from my body, gently taking my hand and walking me towards the gym. I don’t want to go but his tender touch could probably lead me anywhere.
We walk into the gym and I stop by the door, pulling in a defeated sigh as I stare at the Gauntlet. Riley jogs over and pulls a Gatorade out of the cooler. Throwing it at me, I fumble the bottle and catch it just before it hits the ground.
He snickers and runs back to Kade, who’s just finishing up the tires.
Coach Baxter peeks out of his office, giving me a doubtful look before shaking his head and chuckling.
I glare at the back of his head, then take a few deep swigs of sugar water.
“Okay, fine.” I drop the bottle back into the cooler. “Let’s beat this bitch.”
Trey laughs and slaps my shoulder before pulling me over to the starting point.
*****
It took me three times as long as the guys but I managed to complete the damn thing. Trey gave me a boost over the wall and Kade caught me when I tumbled off the beam. He pushed me straight back on and made me finish. The only thing I couldn’t manage was the round of pull-ups. In the end, Trey got beneath me, held my hips and basically lifted me for twenty.
As exhausted as I was, I didn’t mind him holding me that way, and the guys were nice enough to call it a complete.
I was totally done afterwards. Trey actually piggy-backed me to the dining hall at lunch. I could hardly eat a thing. I was too tired to chew. Ms. Beasley took one look at me, thought I was sick and sent me to bed.
Flopping onto my mattress, I hit that pillow and disappeared for a few hours. It was the best damn sleep I’d had since losing Robbie.
And I was going to be getting plenty more over Thanksgiving break.
In spite of waking with stiff muscles, the guys got me to work the next day…and the next…and the next. The Gauntlet was only the beginning. By the weekend, I was in the boxing room, pulling off moves I never thought imaginable. Each day, Trey would strap my hands, grinning at me while Riley shoved pads on. I was sent to work, punching, kicking, pulling off the kind of kickboxing moves you see in movies. Kade and Trey would lean against the ropes, calling out instructions.
“No, you’ve got to punch through your body.”
“Get up, do it again.”
“Higher, more power.”
“Hold your arm straighter.”
“Three more. Come on, you can do it. Three more!”
And so it went. The manning-up of Christiana Sorrentino.
*****
Lifting the shirt over my head, I stifle a groan. My body is killing me. It’s been four days of torture. Quivering muscles, spaghetti arms, sweat in my eyeballs. I’m not sure how much more I can take.
In saying that, I do kind of love that I can flip a guy over my shoulder if he attacks me from behind. I’ve learned the art of head butting, and different kicks and punches that Riley assures me he could feel through the padding. Kade’s taught me to stop saying girly shit, and apparently my swagger is coming along nicely.
Wriggling my fingers under the hot spray, I can’t help a quick grin as I step into the shower. Riley’s guarding the door for me and Trey’s warned him that he’ll kick his ass if he takes a peek, so I can fully relax in the knowledge that no one’s going to bust me naked.