Second Chances - Unraveling Part 14

"Something like that," I blushed.

Jared laughed and waved to Patsy. Then he motioned for me to follow him into his workout room.

The s.p.a.ce that Jared called his was huge, there was a boxing ring in the middle of the s.p.a.ce and then around that area were different pieces of workout equipment. A treadmill, a bike, and something that I think was called a rower. There were mats covering every surface of the floor and most of the walls had mirrors on them. The entire far left corner was devoted to a bench and about fifty different types of weights.

Jared led me to the right where several punching bags hung from the ceiling.

"We'll start here," Jared said, lightly pus.h.i.+ng one of the bags so that it swung back and forth. He turned around and grabbed some of that white stuff I always saw on his hands. "I'll need to do this for you," he nodded at my hands.

"Oh, okay," I tentatively held out my hands for him. He lightly touched me, but it was enough to freak me out.

I closed my eyes and kept telling myself that this wasn't Preston. This was Jared. Jared, who was nothing but kind to me, always looking out for me. Jared wouldn't hurt me, not like Preston had.

"All done," Jared whispered.

I opened my eyes and found him at my eye-level.

"Why don't you like to be touched?" he whispered.

"In order for me to answer that question, I'd have to tell you my whole story, and I'm not ready for that. Not yet."

"Katy, I just want you to know that, I would never touch you with any intention of hurting you... or taking your choices away from you," his eyes bore into me.

"I know that, I do..." I looked at the floor and took a deep breath. "It's just really hard to let go of the past."

"Sometimes, you do though, have to let go, I mean. It's the only way to heal yourself."

"You're very wise for a twenty-four year old," I commented.

Jared snorted and began wrapping the white bandage around his own hands. "Most days, I feel like a middle aged man. My life has matured me beyond my years. But honestly, if someone told me they could redo my past, and give me a happy childhood, I'd say, no deal. Because, if I wished away the past, then I wouldn't be standing here, with you. Everything in life, the good and the bad, happens for a reason. You shouldn't question it, you should accept it, and take it as a life lesson, because maybe, just maybe, that bad experience is leading you down the road to the greatest adventure of your life."

And then I went and said the most intelligent thing ever. "What's this stuff for?" I pointed to the white bandage wrapped around both of my hands.

Jared laughed. "Oh, Katy," he shook his head. "You are a Master subject changer."

I blushed. "I really want to know."

"They protect your hand and wrist when you're punching. These," he grabbed at one of the punching bags, "aren't exactly soft. Basically, it keeps you from injuring yourself."

"Oh," I drew out the word.

"Now," he said, "before I let you beat the c.r.a.p out of my punching bag, I need to show you the proper way to hold your fist to throw a punch."

"Okay," I said, even though I already knew. Todd had taught us in the self-defense cla.s.ses. I just kept my lips sealed, because it meant more time looking at Jared. After all, just because I had a no touching rule, it didn't mean I had a no looking rule.

"You want to make sure your thumb is on the outside of your fist, not the inside. If you throw a punch with your thumb inside your first, it will break. You're going to want to curl your thumb around the outside of your fingers like this," he demonstrated. "Keep your fists tight, but not so tight that you cut off circulation," he looked at me to make sure I was paying attention. "Some people like to punch with their fingers lined up evenly, while others have their index and middle finger out farther," he showed me the two different styles. "The choice is up to you. One isn't going to make you punch better than the other; it's just a personal preference."

"Like this?" I held up my fist.

He grinned. "That's exactly right... Ugh! Of course, Todd would have shown you the proper way to hold your fist."

I laughed. "Yeah, he did."

"I don't know where my brain was at," he shook his head. "Anyway, give it a go," he stepped back, leaving me alone beside the punching bag. "Wait- Todd showed you the way to stand too, right?"

"Yes, Jared," I giggled.

"Sorry," he said, and I swear he was blus.h.i.+ng. "I just don't want you to get hurt on my watch. Sometimes, the way you stand is just as important as how you punch."

"I think I've got this," I a.s.sured him.

"Have at it, kittycat," he said, moving behind the punching bag and holding it in place.

"I don't want to hurt you," I looked at him.

He laughed. "That's not likely, Katy. I get beat up, daily. If you do manage to hurt me, it will just be another bruise. It's not a big deal."

"It's a big deal to me," I said, taking my ponytail out and then putting my hair up in a topknot so that it would stay out of my face better.

Jared watched my movement and murmured under his breath, "You're so beautiful."

"What?" I snapped my head in his direction.

"You're beautiful," he spoke louder.

"I look like a mess," I pointed to my leggings and loose t-s.h.i.+rt.

"Katy," he peered at me around the punching bag, "some people need makeup and fancy hairdo's to look beautiful. You don't. Everything about you is beautiful, inside and out."

I blushed. "Um... thank you, Jared."

"Don't thank me when I'm only telling the truth. Now come on, kitten, let some of that anger out."

I smiled and punched the bag, and Jared was right, it felt good, really good.

I punched and punched. I pretended that bag was Preston and that with every punch I was erasing what he did to me.

Tears streamed down my face, but Jared didn't say anything. I think he knew that I needed this.

Exhausted, I finally collapsed on the gym floor and buried my face in my hands so that Jared wouldn't have to see me cry anymore.

I could feel Jared standing near me, and then sitting down beside me.

He just sat there, not saying anything, and not trying to touch me.

He would never understand how that simple act, affected me.

Jared saw and understood more about me than I'd care to admit, without me opening up to him. He had X-ray vision when it came to me. For whatever reason, I didn't care. I wanted him to see me. Not the old me. Not the new me. But the me that I was becoming. I wanted to open up to him. I wanted him to know all my secrets.

Really, I just wanted Jared.

14.

I CONTINUED TO CRY AND JARED SAT, PATIENTLY BESIDE ME. When the tears finally began to subside, he got up and went to a cabinet in the gym, fumbling around.

He sat down beside me and handed me a paper towel.

"Sorry, I know it's not as good as a tissue, but it's all I've got," he glanced at me sympathetically. I hated that he was seeing me like this, but he didn't seem as freaked out as most guys would be.

"Thank you," I sniffled and wiped my face. "I'm not normally this emotional, I swear. I don't know the last time I've cried this much."

"Everyone needs a good cry now and then. Even us guys," he winked.

I laughed and balled the paper towel up in my hand.

"Better?" he asked, and there was genuine concern in his voice. He wasn't asking, because it was the right thing to do, he was asking because he genuinely wanted to know.

"Yeah, thanks," I stood and tossed the paper towel in the trashcan. "Well," I put my hands on my hips. "I think I've kept you from your training long enough."

He chuckled. "You can keep me from my training, anytime."

I grabbed my purse, "I better be getting home. I have a ton of homework to do. Every time, I think I'm going to get caught up, I get a.s.signed another paper."

"I would ask you out tonight, what with it being Friday, but my sister has a ballet recital."

"Wait... I thought your sister was sixteen?" I questioned, sliding my purse up to rest on my shoulder. It was a huge purse; like the kind you could fit a sink in, and cobalt blue. It was my favorite though, and despite its years of abuse, it was holding up well.

"She is," Jared said, moving across the room to the weights. I followed him and watched as he picked one up. The muscles in his arms and shoulders rippled.

"But she still does ballet? Isn't that something for younger kids?"

He shrugged. "She loves it, always has. It's been an escape for her, just like fighting has been for me. She's really good. A couple schools in New York already have their eye on her."

"Really?" I raised a brow in shock. "That's incredible. I'd love to see her perform."

"You would?" he dropped the weight he had been using on the ground and grabbed a heavier one.

"Oh gos.h.!.+ I wasn't trying to invite myself!" I blushed.

Jared laughed. "I know. I didn't ask, because I figured you wouldn't be interested. But..." he met my eyes, "if you want to go, I'd love for you to come. Plus, you'll get to meet my sister."

"Do you want me to meet your sister?" I nervously swayed back and forth.

"Of course," he answered without hesitation.

"Um... yeah, I'll go."

A smile stole across his face. "Great. I'll pick you up at seven."

"I can meet you there," I looked at the ground.

He sighed. "Katy, I'm not going to break into your house and kill you, if that's what you're afraid of. This is just me, being a nice guy, wanting to pick up his girl."

"Your girl?" I raised a brow.

He stood, so that he towered over me, making me feel like a small fairy in his presence. "You are most definitely my girl, even if you don't know it yet."

I swallowed and squeaked, "Oh."

"Seven," he pointed at me. "Text me your address."

"O-o-kay," I knew there was no point in arguing with Jared.

I turned around and was almost out the door when he said, "Katy?"

"Yeah," I turned around.

"They said this is a semi-formal event, whatever that means," he shrugged. "So you'll need to wear a dress."

"Okay," I said. "I'll uh- see you at seven."

He grinned and went back to his workout.

When I got in my car, I looked at the clock. I had approximately three hours to shower, do my hair, and find a dress.

I was so screwed.

I pulled my phone out and called Piper, "I need your help."

"Tomorrow," Piper warned, traipsing into my condo, "we are going shopping. No questions asked. Did you shower?" she asked, closing the door.

"Showered and dried my hair."

"Good," she said. "Then it shouldn't take me long to have you looking decent. You know," she dropped her bag and a dress down on the couch, "this is starting to become a habit."

"What can I say? I haven't had a need to buy dress clothes."

Piper shook her head. "You are going to the mall tomorrow, even if I have to shackle myself to you."

"Hey, I wasn't arguing. In fact, I was going to ask you if we could go. I need your opinion when it comes to fas.h.i.+on. Everything I own is tees, leggings, jeans, and more tees."