AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Foster
There she is. She came. Excellent. Waiting for me next to her Jetta like a good girl. She's wearing black spandex workout pants and a halter tank top. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail with a curl hanging down over her shoulder. The slung-low baseball cap and oversized shades are meant to hide her face. She has to go incognito when she hangs out with guys like me.
She's biting her nails as I pull into the lot and park. When I get out and walk around to her, she takes off her glasses and her eyes widen at first then she offers me a gleaming white smile. "Hi."
"Glad you showed up."
She looks down and blushes. Cute.
Dropping the lift on the back of Henry's truck, I climb up and start working on releasing the bikes. She quietly walks over and peers inside. As I'm lowering her bike to the ground, she says, "You bought that new?"
Shit. How did she know?
Oh, she's looking at a sticker on the bar I forgot to remove. Darn. Well, at least it wasn't the price. I got her a high-end bike thinking she's used to nice things.
I'm not gonna lie to her. "You need a good bike to train for a triathlon."
"I'm probably not going to…"
"You are. Today is your first day of training. I'll take it easy on you."
"No. Don't please."
"You sure?" She has no idea what my version of hard is.
She nods as I adjust the seat for her height, but before she climbs on she stops and holds up one finger. "We should stretch."
"After. Let's go." I drop my older bike down to the pavement and grab two helmets for us.
She squats with one knee bent and her hands pointing up over her head in a yoga warrior pose. "It's important. Prevents injury."
While she looks gorgeous doing that, it's not necessary. "That kind of stretching isn't right before a ride. We should do some dynamic stretching."
"What's that?"
She sure has a long way to go if she wants to be a sports therapist. How can I show her?
"You wanna see?"
"Yes. Show me."
I'm going to show off, but she asked for it. I bust out my break dance moves from back in the day. I start with a little top rock to imaginary music in my head and pop down to show her some footwork. Kickout, shuffle, ended with a hollowback freeze, grabbing my shoe over my head. I can't spin on the pavement. Have to show her that some other time.
By the time I'm done, the worry on her face has been replaced with an entertained smile. Good. I like to see her happy.
"Now you try it," I say.
She laughs. "I totally cannot do any of that."
"All right. Then do your yoga stretches. We'll work on your breaker moves some other time."
She's giggling the entire time she stretches, probably imagining herself trying to do the moves I just showed her. I'm smiling watching her bend and twist her beautiful body. She reaches for her ankles, and I could watch her do yoga all day.
"Let's get on with it then if we're gonna run too." I motion to the handlebars of her bike. She struggles with the helmet and has to push her ponytail down to get it on before she mounts the bike. Squashing Milana Bianchi's ponytail has to be against the society girl rules in the Hamptons. They always look so put together. Never seen a rich girl out here with her hair messed up.
"You good?" I ask her as she fastens her helmet under her chin.
"Yep. I love it."
