Page 15 of Jackrabbit
“Got it,” Colt gritted out as Beau stepped to one side of him. Sweat dripped off Colt’s nose and hit the mat, his neck blazing red with strain.
Beau ignored the burn in his left leg as he crouched down. He hovered his hand near Colt’s core to monitor, and Colt took a quick inhale before letting out a controlled exhale. Forty-five seconds in, Beau saw it—the minute dip in his hips, the overcorrection upward. The body trying to cheat what the muscles couldn’t hold.
“Straighten out.” Beau pressed his palm against Colt’s lower back to guide him. The muscles were jumping under his hand, small tremors that said everything about where they were starting from.
Colt’s breathing went harsh and shallow one minute and twenty-three seconds in. His forearms slid forward on the mat, slipping in his sweat, and his jaw was clenched so hard it had to ache.
“You’re done,” Beau said as he removed the weight.
“I can—” Colt started, head whipping around to look at Beau even as his arm slipped again.
“You’re done.” Firmer this time, catching those green eyes. Beau stood and stepped back. “Drop.”
Colt collapsed onto his stomach with a sound that was half grunt, half groan. He turned his face to the side, chest heaving against the mat. “Ow.”
When Beau looked up from the notes he was taking on his phone, Colt flopped onto his back and groaned. He flung one arm over his eyes, his shirt riding up to show his stomach rising and falling as his breathing evened out.
Beau nudged Colt’s bottle over to him with his foot. “Water.”
Colt reached for it without looking, nearly knocking it over before grabbing it and taking a long drink. He let his arm flop back down. “So. Scale of one to ten, how fucked am I?”
Beau considered as he slipped his phone back in his pocket. “You’ve got six months. It’s doable.” He paused. “Barely.”
“Inspiring,” Colt muttered, but there was no real heat in it.
“What’d you eat today?” Beau asked, crossing his arms and looking down at the sprawled figure on the gym floor.
“Uh.” Colt frowned. “Coffee? More coffee. Biscuits at Joyce’s. Half a sandwich someone left in the shop fridge. Don’t tell Liam.”
Beau pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course. “When’s the last time you had a full meal? Protein, vegetables, something other than bread and a diuretic?”
“Hey, bread’s cheap.” Colt sat up, brought one knee up and rested his arm on it while he rubbed the back of his neck. “Street racing only pays if you win, and, you know, kinda got arrested a couple weeks ago. Not a lot of income lately.”
“Mhmm.” Beau put a hand on his hip. “Well, you’ve got a job now. Your protein intake needs to go up, and your empty carb intake needs to go way down. Don’t care if you need to cook six chicken breasts and eat them shredded like popcorn. Not enough protein, and your muscles are going to fatigue real quick. Vegetables. Complex carbs. I’ll send you a meal prep list.” He paused and sucked his teeth. “Keep it cheap, if that’s better.”
Colt ducked his head, pinched the spout of his water bottle and pushed it until it balanced on the side of the base. “Yeah. Okay. That’d be…thanks.”
Remembering those racing pictures with no parents present, Beau chewed his inner lip. How long had it been since someone had offered to help Colt out? Ten years, if Beau had to guess.
Colt pushed himself to his feet. “Anything else today?”
“Treadmill.” Beau leaned down to pick up his bag. “You’ll run to the shop every morning, too. It’s, what, two miles? No stopping.”
“Ugh.” Colt grabbed his water bottle and headed to the treadmills. “Cardio. Gross.”
Beau huffed and shook his head. This little shit was growing on him.
Like a fungus.
Chapter 10
“You look dead, man.” Liam stepped up to the front desk sporting a backwards hat and an energy drink. “Is the boss trying to kill you?”
Colt laughed, and then groaned as his abs protested. “Feels like it. Oh my God. So much pain.”
“What do you two do every day after work?” Liam leaned against the desk on his elbows.
“Liam, if you don’t get your greasy ass arms off the desk I just cleaned—”
