Quake: #8 The Beat and The Pulse Page 11

  And he hadn’t looked like he regretted it. Yet.

  By the time I walked into the office, I was on a high. Immediately, I fished out a can of energy drink and popped the tab, waiting for my computer to power up.

  “Hey!”

  I glanced up as Hayley came to a halt beside my desk.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “I think you’re missing this,” she went on, wiggling the brown cardboard box in her arms. “It came to acquisitions by mistake.”

  “Thanks,” I said, unable to wipe the shit-eating grin off my face.

  “What’s with you today?” she asked, setting the box on my desk. “You’ve got too much pep for this hour. You’re exhausting me.”

  I shrugged and turned the box around so I could read the label. Yep, it was for marketing and likely had the last of the expo swag that was missing from the order downstairs.

  “Did you bag that hot personal trainer?” she asked, hitting the nail on the head.

  “He’s a boxer,” I replied, rummaging around in my drawer for a box cutter. “He’s won a championship belt.”

  “You didn’t!” Hayley exclaimed.

  “Did she finally score with the hot boxer?” Dom asked, appearing out of thin air. Dumping his satchel on his desk, he leaned in close.

  Never being one to kiss and tell, I covered my face in embarrassment. Seriously, I was never very free with talking to other people about this stuff. Not even Mel had the honor of awkward first kiss conversations when we were gangly teenagers, let alone all the other bits. These guys…well, they were free in a way I wasn’t.

  “Spill, Jules,” Hayley said with a frustrated moan. “How was he?”

  I crumpled under the weight of her puppy-dog eyes and began to smile like a fool. “Like a porno but with all the romance any woman could ever want.”

  “I’m so fucking jealous!” Dom said with a pout. “No man ever rammed me and whispered romantic shit in my ear at the same time.”

  A woman, who I recognized from an office down the hall, was walking by as the words left Dom’s mouth, and she glared over her glasses at us. We fell into silence as she passed, and as soon as she disappeared around the corner, we burst out into laughter.

  “Did you see the look on her face?” Dom asked, wiping a tear away.

  “Talking about ramming in an open-plan office isn’t exactly proper,” I said, surprised at how different I felt.

  “If you’re done talking about penises ramming into things, come with me,” Jade declared, standing over us.

  Everyone scrambled, leaving me sitting before my boss, my cheeks turning scarlet. Thankfully, her lips quirked in amusement as she crooked a finger at me. If anyone was more crass than Dom and Hayley, it was Jade Forsyth.

  “So,” she proclaimed as we walked into her office. “Did the fighter you were Googling the other week finally ram you?”

  I almost choked on my own spit, my reaction seeming to placate her.

  “Good,” she said. “Now that’s out of the way, we can get down to business.”

  16

  Caleb

  Beat was pumping today, and I was on cloud nine.

  I was pretty sure it had to do with the fan-fucking-tastic night and morning with Juliette, but things were… Well, fluid. I didn’t care about the lingering problems with my parents, I couldn’t give a stuff about my career, and all my fears about the future? They’d dulled in the wake of last night.

  All I wanted to do was spend time with her any way I could get it.

  Standing in the middle of the studio, I watched as Mitch and Gaz worked on their sparring. Beside the ring, Franklin was working a ball, rolling his fists over and over keeping up the momentum at a pretty good pace. In the background, the radio hummed, pulsing some alternative rock song through the speakers.

  Outside, the sun was shining, and the birds were tweeting. Damn, I felt good.

  Movement in my peripheral vision drew my attention to the door, and I glanced over to find Tommy barging into the studio, a look of pure anger distorting his expression. Shit. Knew that good mood couldn’t last for long.

  “You’re a hypocrite, mate,” he said, getting right up into my face.

  Instantly, the last of my smile faded into obscurity. “Excuse me?”

  “Dude, I saw you ramming your tongue down Juliette’s throat on the street this morning.”

  I knew there would be trouble when the guys found out, but I’d disregarded it in favor of focusing all my attention on Juliette. I didn’t know what to say to pull him back into line. I was probably out of witticisms because there were none. I had gone after her, but it was different. I cared for her.

  “There’s a difference,” I said, knowing how lame it sounded.

  “There is no difference,” Tommy snapped. “You tore me a new asshole for showing interest, and once I was gone, you immediately went and bagged her. So I’ll say it again. You’re a fucking hypocrite, boss.”

  My lip curled into a sneer. “The difference is, I wasn’t grooming her for a one-night stand.”

  Tommy scoffed, looking at me like I’d just grown another head. “You’re telling me you actually care for a scared little girl like her?”

  I turned to face him fully, my fingers curling into tight fists. That scared little girl had more intelligence in her little fingernail than the stupid fucker standing in front of me. No man should belittle another person’s legitimate fear. Especially a vulnerable woman’s fear.

  “Be careful what you say next, Tommy,” I snarled. “Be very fucking careful.”

  “Or what? You’ll get your daddy to come in and clean up your mess?”

  My eye started to twitch, rage beginning to simmer out of control.

  “Don’t make this personal, Tommy. My father has nothing to do with this. This is about taking blatant advantage of a frightened woman. You wanted to use her for sex. You were using this studio and your position to cruise for vulnerable women to stick your cock in. How long has this been going on? Huh?”

  “And what you’re doing is different, right?” he asked, closing the space between us. “Fucking the clientele.”

  “Hey, hey, hey,” Franklin exclaimed bounding across the mats. Shoving an arm between us, he managed to wedge open some space before things became worse. “Calm down guys.”

  Then Tommy said something that was unforgivable. “She isn’t worth more than a quick fuck and toss.”

  Anger boiled hot and hard through my nerve endings, the slight against Juliette hitting a place I never thought existed inside of me. He stabbed me right where it hurt. My heart. That was how I knew this thing I’d started with Jules was more than a fleeting bit of fun.

  Staring at Tommy, it was all I could do to keep myself in check and not clock him one.

  “You’re done here,” I said, my gaze never leaving his. “Pack up your shit, and get the fuck out.”

  His words said it all. There was nothing more in it than his own selfish personal gratification. A forcible grab for dominance over a weaker person. The definition of violence.

  I wanted to know her and to help her face whatever had her so rattled. I wanted to cherish the ground she walked on. I wanted to make her feel good. To me, it was all about Juliette.

  That was the difference.

  Tommy snarled at me, his lip curling. Stepping around me, his shoulder smacked into mine as he strode off to collect his things. Franklin waited with me as he reemerged, storming out of Beat.

  When he was gone, some of the tension I’d been holding in my torso dissolved. I’d been coiled ready to punch him out if I needed to, and that was fucked up. This whole thing made me sick. Asshole.

  “He’s gone,” Gaz said, looking out of the roller door and down the street. “On his bike, blubbering like a fool.”

  I rolled my eyes, thankful it was the middle of the day and just the guys had witnessed our near miss. A punch-up in front of clients would’ve been bad news. Still, it shouldn’t have happened like that, but w
hat choice did I have? Tommy shoved it in my face, not me.

  “He’ll never be able to work in a gym in this country again as far as I’m concerned,” I hissed.

  “You’re going to tell your dad?” Frank asked.

  I snorted and shook my head. “People have got to start taking me seriously. I’ve got more clout than that fucker. Honesty and humility gain you a lot of friends, mate. More than being a self-centered asshole does. Remember that.”

  He scratched his head and shrugged. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “Listen to your coach, Frank.” Turning, I walked away, intending to dish out my aggression on a bag at the back of the studio.

  So that was what it meant to be a manager and a coach. Knowing when to make the hard calls and stick to them.

  “Caleb!”

  I hesitated, then stopped as Franklin caught up with me.

  “That woman who came to class, the one you’ve been training…” he began, and I narrowed my eyes in warning.

  “Pick your words carefully,” I said, my fists aching to hit something. Hard.

  “Let me spot you,” he said, likely thinking better than to bring up Juliette. “Don’t want too much swing back.”

  I grunted and pulled on a pair of gloves I’d left behind the previous day. Kicking off my shoes, I stretched out my muscles, my back still feeling fine after the night before. It was nice to know I could have Juliette the way I wanted without having my stupid fucking injury get in the way like it did with almost everything else.

  Franklin shouldered the bag, and I ran through a few sets, my fists slamming into the leather with satisfying smacks. The impact fed my frustration, and I hit harder, taking out every shred of my aggression until sweat was rolling down my back and beading across my forehead. I didn’t stop until my breath was too short to continue and Franklin was about to drop.

  I nodded sharply at him before shoving my feet back into my trainers, and I strode off, making a detour past the water fountain outside the change rooms.

  “I’ve never seen a guy hit a bag so hard,” I heard Mitch say as I drank my fill. “That’s the real deal.”

  I was dripping with sweat and stinking up the place, but I didn’t care. I bounded upstairs and pushed into the office, my skin prickling with goose bumps as the breeze from the air conditioner hit me full in the face.

  Picking up the phone on the desk, I pressed the speed dial for Pulse Fitness, knowing it would be easier to admit I’d hired a douche to Ren than to fess up to being a failure to her father, Andrew Miller, a man I looked up to as a hero.

  “Pulse Fitness, Lori speaking.”

  “Hey, Lori, it’s Caleb,” I said. “Is Ren around?”

  “Yeah, she’s downstairs. Hold on, and I’ll grab her for you.”

  There was a click as she placed me on hold, and I stood there looking out over the studio as the muted sounds of advertisements for the gym filtered down the phone. I hardly heard them as my thoughts mulled over the confrontation with Tommy, and I hoped it wouldn’t come back to bite me in the ass.

  “Caleb Carmichael,” came Ren’s loud and overly enthusiastic voice. “To what do I owe the honor?”

  “I fired Tommy,” I said, getting to the point as quickly as possible.

  “You what?” She sighed loudly. “Well, it was coming one way or another. No surprise.”

  “We had a rather public slanging match in the studio,” I went on. “He saw me with Juliette this morning and had a go before I could rein him in.”

  “You were with Juliette?” she asked, bypassing the most important part of the sentence. “So you went for it?”

  “Ren, Tommy and I almost came to blows over it. In front of everyone.”

  “Shit, well, is he gone now?”

  “Of course, he’s gone. I can handle him. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “What happened exactly? Am I going to get a love letter from a lawyer for unfair dismissal?”

  “Ren.” I pinched the bridge of my nose.

  “Well, it sounds like a fun-filled experience.”

  “He planned to take advantage of Juliette, and he neither confirmed nor denied, but I’m pretty sure he’s been pulling the same shit ever since he started. It was sheer fucking luck I picked up on it at all.”

  “I had a feeling something wasn’t right,” she said after a moment of contemplation.

  “You knew?” I asked, my temper beginning to rise again.

  “I had an inkling, yeah,” she explained. “But so did you. The whole point of coaching and managing a gym like Beat is like knowing your opponent in the ring, Caleb. It’s about people and who they are and how they interact with others. It isn’t an easy gig. I learned the hard way, too.”

  “It’s nothing like I thought it would be,” I confirmed, the realization I’d probably made an enemy for life with Tommy hitting home.

  I’d made plenty when I was boxing, it was part of the game, but it wasn’t a long-term thing. Out in the trenches, you were only as good as your last bout, and grudges came and went with a flick of a wrist. The here and now was different. It was personal.

  “I feel like a hypocrite,” I muttered, agonizing over Tommy’s accusation.

  “It’s a borderline gray area,” Ren replied. “It’s the intention that separates it from being fucked up. Honestly, if it chews you up that much, stop training her as a client. It’s not a big deal. It was never part of your contract to take on private clients.”

  She had a point. I didn’t care about the money. I was charging Jules a fraction of the usual rate, and I never trained anyone other than the boys, so the time and income weren’t a problem if we dropped it. Take the client part out of the equation, and things became a whole lot kosher.

  “Did I do the right thing?” I asked, kind of liking the way Ren, of all people, had become my confidant.

  “Firing Tommy?” she asked. “Yeah. It was the right call and a tough one you handled well by the sounds of it. Juliette? From what I can tell, you and her…it’s got potential, and that’s a good thing.”

  “Potential for what?” I asked, scowling.

  “Pfft. Boys are so dumb.”

  I rolled my eyes, hankering for another go at that punching bag. “Then use little words with one syllable.”

  “Love, you moron. Love.”

  17

  Juliette

  On my way to Beat on Saturday, I couldn’t stop thinking about everything that’d happened in the last few days.

  It felt like forever since I had seen Caleb, but I’d been hearing from him every day since he’d walked me home after breakfast. The occasional text message would appear on my phone, making my heart soar. Never in my entire life had a guy made me feel so special, and that was the problem.

  I felt guilty for not opening up to him. I was keeping one hell of a secret from the guy, and he’d been nothing but supportive. Hell, Juliette wasn’t even my real name. I had it legally changed, so technically, it was my name, but that in itself was a fucking huge thing.

  Then there was everything else.

  We usually trained Saturday afternoons at three o’clock‬ sharp. When I walked through the open roller door, I wasn’t surprised to see other people making use of the gym. My confidence had picked up significantly in the last month, and I no longer gave them a wary side-eye glance as I moved about the studio. Caleb had been right, of course. Most people didn’t even look twice at me. In here, they were too busy looking at their muscles flex in the mirror.‬‬‬‬

  I found Caleb waiting for me at the back of the gym.

  “Hey,” he said as I approached, his hand caressing my cheek when I stopped in front of him.

  He looked good today, but he always did. His hair was messy and unkempt—though I suspected it was purposely styled that way—he wore his usual T-shirt and shorts, his feet were bare, and his mouth was curved into a grin that had my knees weakening.

  My thoughts immediately went to the moment we’d been entangled in
one another, naked, and I flushed, my thighs clenching.

  “Hey,” I replied.

  “Hmm,” he murmured. “Do I want to have a guess at what you’re thinking about right now?”

  “I doubt you have to guess,” I shot back, smiling from ear to ear.

  “Temptress.” He lowered his mouth toward mine and kissed me softly on the lips.

  Luckily, he took the initiative because I was completely clueless when it came to displaying affection. I’d never had a relationship start off with such a bang…or go on long enough for the endearment part to settle in. Should I kiss him? Should I call? Should I text? Did I have to wait an allotted amount of time before I would hear from him? I was a chaotic mess, which wasn’t anything new.

  “You good?” Caleb asked, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

  “I…” I began, falling back on bad habits. My words were stuck. Again.

  “You don’t have to filter yourself with me, Jules,” he said, saving my ass.

  “I don’t know how to do this,” I blurted, forcing my insecurity out. “Being…together.”

  “You’re doing pretty fucking awesome so far,” was his reply. Smirking, he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me close. “I’m not exactly a pro either, you know.”

  “Seriously?” I look him up and down. “Don’t say stupid shit to make me feel better.”

  Caleb held up his free hand in mock defense. “Honestly.”

  “A guy like you?” I snorted. “I imagined I was just one in a long line.”

  “Looks are deceiving, aren’t they?” He laughed and shook his head. “Anyway, I’d hardly call it a line…”

  I slapped him on the arm and wiggled out of his grasp.

  “It’s quiet in here today,” I said, noticing how empty the gym was. Usually, there would be some people lingering after the self-defense class that wrapped up just before I arrived. Today, it looked like it’d been canceled.