“Oh, come on Andi, you've seen me awake plenty of times at six thirty,” I say as she shrugs and comes in, stripping off her outer t-shirt to just her sports bra and running shorts. The gym has more than just weightlifting equipment, and she gets on the StairMaster, draping her shirt over the bar above the console.
“Of course I've seen you awake at six thirty. But usually when you're stumbling in the house still half-drunk after a party,” she says. “Not in here, and certainly not lifting.”
“Gotta do what I gotta do,” I say, setting up under the bar. The gym isn't air-conditioned, although I can turn on a high-velocity fan if it gets too bad, but that's on purpose. I don't have any pussy pads on the squat bars, and I don't need no pussy air conditioning, either. “Enjoyed getting out of the house yesterday, and think it might be time for me to get out some more again today. Besides, maybe if I act like I've got my shit right, Pops will get off my ass.”
“Well, good luck with that,” Andrea says, starting up her workout. “You really think Peter will give you a little more slack with that leash he's got on you?”
“Maybe not the full amount, but he's gotta let me out sometime,” I say. “Might be a month before I'm going to be safe to go by the Watering Hole again.”
“You'll just have to content yourself with your previous playmates,” Andrea says. I ignore her, though, doing my next set at 280 before moving up in five-pound increments, finishing with 315 by the time I've hit my target for today. I set the bar back down, and I see that Andrea's still grinding away on the StairMaster, her head down, sweat dripping from her chin to drop to the moving beltway stairs.
“How long you going for today?” I ask, figuring she can't last much longer. I'm surprised when she looks up, and she doesn't look tired at all.
“Still got another half hour on here. Today's all endurance. Besides, this thing gives me some killer calves and a nice ass, too. At least as much as us Japanese girls get,” she says self-deprecatingly.
At the mention of calves, I think of Kat, the way her legs looked yesterday in those martial arts pants, and my cock twitches again. I grumble, turning away from Andrea quickly before she gets any ideas. I go to my next exercise, weighted dips alternated with bodyweight pullups, ten and ten before I rest, six sets. I finish up, then climb onto the StairMaster next to Andrea for a quick fifteen minutes.
Andrea finishes soon after I climb on, and pats at her face with her t-shirt. “So did you go see her?”
I blink and glance over, but there's no deception or slyness in Andrea's face. I've suspected for a long time she hates Pops nearly as much as Kat does. I can understand, when her entire presence in the house has been to basically serve as a giant 'Fuck You' to Mom. That's not the sort of thing anyone wants growing up.
“Yeah,” I say after a moment. “She's... motivated.”
“Seems to have rubbed off on you,” Andrea says as she steps off the machine and gets to the floor. “You sure it's safe?”
“No... but then again, when do I ever do the safe thing?” I ask, to which Andrea doesn't smile, doesn't smirk, nothing. “What?”
“Someday, Jackson... someday I hope you really learn what not doing the safe thing means,” Andrea says mysteriously after a moment, then pulls her t-shirt back on. “In any case, have a good rest of your workout, I've got class.”
Andrea leaves, and I finish up the rest of my quick cardio, just letting my mind drift. I figure I'll get a swim in later, but maybe today instead of a swim I'll pull out my old gloves and throw down a few rounds with the heavy bag in the corner. It's not quite the same as actual training, but it'll help in starting to get me back in fight mode. I won't be caught by surprise again.
I go inside and drop off my shaker cup of post-workout protein mix in the sink for the maid to wash and run upstairs to take a lengthy shower. I even make sure to condition my hair. I've been lazy with it since I've been cooped up around the house, but it's time to get back to normal.
I dry off and put on my first set of clothes for the day, some Burberry pants and a button-down Ralph Lauren shirt. I grab my Steve Madden loafers, and I'm all set for the morning.
As I walk down the hall toward the stairs, Andrea's door opens and she comes out, also dressed for success in her typical power suit look, although I see she's skipping the heels for something a little more comfortable. I guess doing close to an hour on the StairMaster does have side effects after all. “Well, you are dressed today. Back to your regular duds, I see.”
“Not totally regular,” I note, showing her the Maddens. I normally reserve these for when I go out and go around the house in training shoes instead. “What do you think?”