Love's Game (LarssonSiblingSeries#5)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Hello from Portugal 😍

DEXTER

I press the arrow on the treadmill when I hit a wall, needing to push myself past the pain. Olive is out tonight with her friend and there's no way I'm sitting in with Aaron on my own. Especially after he got chosen for the first game of the season and I'm stuck on the subs bench.

I can't deal with his boasting right now.

I'd probably end up punching him.

In fact, I almost did.

"If you're not careful, you'll fall off that thing," a voice says to my left, a hefty guy with Instructor labelled on his shirt.

I puff out a breath. "I'm fine."

Reaching over he turns down the speed. "You'll tear something, man, and that'll have you out for weeks."

Knowing he's right, I steady my pace, feeling the beads of sweat escape past my hairline. "Thanks, I might do the bike instead."

The instructor leans on the handle of the treadmill next to me. "Bike is better all round. Your joints will thank you later on in life."

Pressing the stop button, I try and catch my breath, bending down to puff in and out. "I'm a footballer so I'm knackered in that department."

"More of a reason to be careful then."

I grab my water bottle to guzzle the amino acid drink inside it and step off the treadmill. "I'm usually good if I stretch out beforehand. I'm always up for some tips though." 

"I can train with you. I'm finishing my shift in a few minutes," he says, and I think why not. The guy looks like he's in good shape, a bit too buff for what I like to train to but I know the dedication it takes to get to that point.

"Sure man," I put the empty bottle on the floor near the exercise bikes and hop on one,  changing the height of the seat when I'm almost on the floor. "I'll do this while I wait for you."

Earphones in my ears, I push on the pedals enough to get me out of breath, watching the countyside on the screen in front of me. I'm only coming to this gym because it's part of our apartment complex, knowing there's better ones around the city.

I'm at four miles by the time the instructor joins me again, enjoying the rhythm I have going on. The resistance is high, intervals short. It's enough to know that I'm burning shed loads of calories.

"I'm buddy by the way," he says, mounting the bike next to me.

I nod, expelling the words, "Dexter," in one.

Buddy starts off slow, "You been coming here long? Not seen you around."

I'm not one to talk mid-workout, but he seems like a genuine guy and I don't want him to think I'm rude. Public relations and all that. It's just painful to talk when your lungs are about to explode. "My second time. Can we chat after?"

He nods.

Doing twenty more minutes on the bikes, we head over to the weight section, my arms aching after two sets. Buddy has me using heavier than I usually do, telling me that we can lower the weight each set.

I finish my twelve and wait for him to do his set, checking my phone for messages from Olive. There's a picture of her pizza and skittles cocktail, another of her smiling at me through a weird looking mirror.

I send a heart eye emoji, telling her to text me when she wants picking up. Knowing Olive she'll be ready for home by nine o'clock, but I'm hoping she lasts longer than that so she can earn a much deserved night out.