The Last Blues We're Ever Gonna Have

Chapter 9

Jem grunted as he dropped the barbell to the pad at his feet. He pulled the hem of his shirt up to his face, wiping the sweat out of his eyes. His leg muscles shook in the aftermath of the deadlifts he'd just finished.
"Not bad," Beck told him, clapping a hand on his back. Jem grunted at the force of it. "Keep at it and you might be able to lift as heavy as me." Jem rolled his eyes.
"Fuck that," Jem groaned, drawing out the words. "You've got four inches and probably twenty pounds on me, you ogre." Beck laughed, tipping his head back. Jem chuckled with him. Normally, Jem loathed being in the gym. If he wasn't being paid to do so, he'd never set foot in one. He much preferred running or swimming as a workout, but he couldn't deny the fact that conditioning his body with weightlifting did more to sculpt his body than cardio did. And if he wanted to keep getting action roles, then he needed to look like an action actor.
Beck never complained about being in a gym. He was one of those freaks who enjoyed heavy lifting. His thick muscles were proof. When Beck had suggested that Jem work out with him, Jem had thought he meant the MMA training Beck had been doing for the last year, so Jem had readily agreed. He should have known that Beck would sucker him into the CrossFit hell he was currently enduring. Jem was going to be so sore later. Probably for days. Beck was a goddamn slave driver when it came to workouts, insisting on adding fifteen more pounds than Jem had chosen, ten more reps, two more sets. Sometimes Jem wondered how he and Beck stayed friends after their workouts. He resolved to trick Beck into running a marathon at some point this year. Jem had only ever done one- mostly just so he could cross it off his bucket list, and he swore he'd never do it again-but he would gladly deal with Runner's Toe and chaffed nipples just to watch Beck suffer. Beck couldn't run distance for shit.
But there was one upside to working out at Beck's gym. Jem cast his glance across the gym to where the treadmills lined the east wall.
Luxe's cheeks were flushed as she sprinted on the furthest treadmill, right next to the window. She'd been running for the past fifteen minutes, moving at a pretty good pace. Her eyes were unfocused as she looked ahead and Jem watched her chest expand with her breaths. She moved well, her strides measured perfectly, her feet never smacking against the belt as it moved beneath her, but rolling smoothly from heal to toe.
"Wish she'd worn her other sports bra," Beck muttered behind him. "You can see her tits bouncing in it." Jem swung an annoyed glare at his friend. "What? It's true. This one just holds them in place, like they're taped down." Beck smirked at him. "I like those shorts, though." Jem rolled his eyes.
"You're such a pig, Beck," he grumbled. Moving over to the rack of free weights, picking up two thirty pound weights.
"Whatever, man. You were thinking it too," Beck defended, taking the barbells out of Jem's hands and swapping them for fifty pound ones. Jem clenched his jaw, giving serious thought to dropping one of the barbells on Beck's foot.
"The difference is that I didn't say it out loud," he grunted, walking back to the mat and starting a set of bicep curls. He watched Beck shrug from the corner of his eye.
"You never say what you're thinking, Jem," Beck said pointedly, and Jem looked up at him.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means, if you don't tell Luxe that you wanna fuck her, I'm gonna fuck her first," Beck snorted. Jem shook his head, curling his arms up and gritting his teeth at the burn in his muscles. "I'll let you watch, though." Jem grunted a laugh, trying to keep his breathing measured.
"What the fuck makes you think I want to fuck her?" He paused, bending to set the weights down on the floor as he rested before his next set.
"Heard you, the other day. Grunting her name while you jacked it in the shower," Beck replied, wicked smirk on his face. Jem narrowed his eyes at his best friend.
"Why the fuck are you listening to me while I shower?"
"Dude, you were loud enough for me to hear in the living room," Beck laughed.
"I'm getting my own fucking apartment," Jem muttered, taking a breath before picking the weights up once more and starting another set.
"Please. How are you gonna keep me out of trouble if you have your own place."
"Might be time for you to learn how to keep yourself out of trouble."
"You've been saying that since we were fucking twenty," Beck countered. "Watch your form, your elbows are swinging forward." Jem grunted, slowing his pace a bit and concentrating on keeping his arms tucked down, elbows next to his waist. "Y'know... we're both thirty two now. You don't have to keep babysitting me. I think we both know I'm capable of looking out for myself now." Jem said nothing, refused to meet Beck's gaze. He knew Beck was right, but his guilt...no, his shame would never let him leave Beck to get hurt again. Never again. "Hey, she's done running," Beck murmured, nudging Jem. "She's gonna stretch now. Watch. She's really fucking limber."
"Jesus fucking Christ, Beck. Are you fucking fifteen?" Jem groaned, but he found himself looking anyways.
Luxe stepped off the treadmill, pulling first one foot then the other behind her against her ass to stretch her thighs. Then she bent at the waist, legs straight and heels together, and planted her palms on the floor.
"Holy fuck," Beck whispered and Jem very nearly echoed him. Luxe was facing away from them, her stretch giving them a perfect view as her shorts rode up, the bottom of her ass cheeks peeking out from them. She really did have a nice ass. "Jem...I want her." Jem turned and looked at Beck. "I want her really bad." Jem sighed. He wanted her too. So fucking bad. She'd been plaguing his dreams for weeks now. And he'd be lying if he said he didn't want to see her splayed beneath him, or bouncing on top of him, moaning in ecstasy. He wanted to know what face should would make when she came; he wanted to know what sounds she'd make as she fell apart.
"Been a few months since we played a game," Jem admitted, looking at his best friend from the corner of his eye. He watched as Beck's mouth curled into a smirk.
"It has," he agreed slowly. "Think Luxe would be...open to playing?" Jem shrugged, looking back to the object of their conversation.
"Won't know until we try," Jem replied.
"I'm totally gonna get her first," Beck declared.
"Race you," Jem grunted, starting another set.
***
Luxe inhaled deeply, trying to catch her breath as she worked through her stretches. But the hammering of her heart...she wasn't quite sure if it was from the sprinting she'd done on the treadmill, or seeing the furtive glances Jem and Beck had snuck in her direction.
They'd been at the gym when she arrived, Gigi had pointed them out by jabbing luxe in the ribs with an elbow and tilting her head in their direction.
"When did they both start working out here?" Gigi had wondered out loud and Luxe could only shrug in response. She'd seen Beck at the gym several times over the last year and a half, but Jem accompanying him was relatively new. "Do they ever come over to talk to you?"
"No. They wave sometimes. Lately, anyways. But they don't usually chat. I mean, this isn't exactly a social gathering, they're here because they're being paid to look good, just like me. It's work, Gigi."
"Uh huh," Gigi had intoned, giving Luxe her best I-Know-Everything-That-Just-Came-Out-of-Your-Mouth-Was-Bullshit look.
Luxe rolled her shoulders, sighing in pleasure when her back popped. The muscles in her legs buzzed and twitched but she knew she was only halfway done with her work out. She turned and looked out across the gym, in search of a cherry red ponytail....spotting it over by the water fountain. Luxe began making her way to where Natasha was, crossing by the free weights, keeping her eyes straight ahead even though she could feel eyes on her. Natasha turned from the water fountain and smiled when she saw Luxe approaching.
"Hey, Luxe! Enjoy your run?" Luxe nodded, returning her personal trainer's friendly smile. She liked Natasha, despite the bruises and sore muscles she left the gym with every week. She was straightforward, without being bitchy, and really knew her shit when it came to fighting. "So, you ready for some Muay Thai?"
"Actually," Luxe began, drumming her fingers nervously against the skin of her thigh. "I was...I was doing some research last night and...I was wondering what you know about Krav Maga?" Natasha blinked her navy blue eyes before narrowing them shrewdly as she stared at Luxe's face.
"I'm certified to train for it," she answered slowly. "Why?"
"Well, I, uh," Luxe paused, resisting the urge to touch her still sore nose. She'd spent extra time, before Gigi had picked her up, using every makeup trick she knew to hide the bruising. But, there was no trick to hide the fact that she was wearing a shit ton of concealer. "There was an...incident at work this week. And I...I wanna know how to defend myself." Natasha stared at her for a few minutes more before nodding.
"Yeah. Krav Maga is a good idea. I'll have you kicking ass and taking names in no time." Luxe smiled warmly before sneaking a look over her shoulder to the free weights area. Her eyes found both Jem and Beck watching her, and before she could be mortified at being caught looking, Jem nodded his head and Beck flashed an approving smirk. They must have over heard, of course they had. They were probably less than ten paces away. She turned back to Natasha before the blush on her face could give away her reaction, but she couldn't stop the way her heart began hammering again. She wasn't quite sure why their approval set her nerves on fire. But there was no mistaking how pleased she felt at their reaction. I'm so fucked, she said to herself.
"Alright, Luxe," Natasha said, clapping her hands together and snapping Luxe out of her thoughts. "Let's start with the basic stances and moves. Come on, over on the mats. I hope you're ready for these bruises." Luxe groaned and followed her trainer to where several padded mats lay out on the gym floor.
"Jesus, be an ice pack and an ibuprofen," she mumbled. Natasha cackled at her.
"Oh, man, this is gonna be so fun," Natasha laughed.
"Ugh, why do I get the feeling that this is about to suck?" Luxe mumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose before she could stop herself. She hissed at the dull throb of pain. Fuck it, she told herself. If I can stop myself from getting punched in the face, it'll be worth it.