Page 248 of One Wild Wish

16

7:30 a.m., 16 ½ Hours…

Gwen

I sank into my squat, then launched upward, limbs braced for impact. A sharp grunt drove from my lungs. I landed on my box, and the shock vibrated up my spine. I hopped down, shot my legs behind me into a burpee—my thirty-ninth. Another pushup. Another box jump. Oxygen raked through my lungs. Everything burned, the kind of pain that had me pushing harder.

Just one more jump. One more rep. To better my personal record.

Win against myself.

The only battle I could control these days.

“I’ll never understand the box jumping thing.” Ainsley stood in her usual spot, perfect ponytail, trendy Lululemon ensemble, not a bead of sweat marring her forehead. “Why would anyone put themselves through that?”

“Because it’s challenging,” I managed between reps.

“Doing the thigh machine is challenging, and I don’t risk smacking my face on the edge of a freaking box and losing my teeth. Plus, the thigh machine works my sex muscles. It’s practical.”

“The thigh machine doesn’t work sex muscles.” Rachel replaced her ten-pound weights. At least she exerted effort at the gym. “You should do those Kegel exercises.”

“I’ve tried those.” Emmett was to my right, giving the whole gym a show, men and women gawking as he curled his biceps. Owen’s brother was sex on a stick.

I landed one more jump, my legs nearly giving out. Forty. It was a solid number for this morning. For each of those burpee box jumps, I hadn’t stressed over August’s looming departure or the possibility of finding my father today. For forty jumps all that had mattered was launching, landing, and breathing. It was everything I loved about exercise and extreme sports, how rushing adrenaline silenced my mind.

Today, however, I also needed to talk with my friends.

Unfortunately, they were more interested in Emmett. “Kegel exercises are for women,” Rachel told him.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he replied.

Ainsley’s ponytail bounced as she gave a little jump. Not a burpee box jump. More of a gossip-junkie jump. “Oh, do tell.”

Emmett, in all his muscly glory, stretched one arm across his chest. His tank top gave us a nice view. “Studies show that Kegels increase the size and intensity of erections. They also reduce premature ejaculation—which isn’t an issue for me,” he added quickly.

“But size is?” I asked, unable to resist. “I’m surprised and disappointed.”

“What? No. Of course not.”

Blinking innocently, Ainsley jumped on my Tease Emmett Train. “You just said it helps with size.”

“Intensity. They make orgasms better, for fuck’s sake.”

I shrugged at Ainsley. “That’s not what I heard.”

She zeroed in on Emmett’s groin. “There’s definitely a size issue.”

Rachel, who often shied away from our more graphic conversations, released a sharp cackle. Her laugh was a ridiculous sound. Part wheeze, part high-pitched bray. It was one of my favorite things about her.

Every head turned our way at the sound, the perfect opportunity for me to raise my voice, and say, “I’ll buy you a penis pump for your birthday.”

Men lifting their weights snickered. A couple women covered their mouths.

“You’re all assholes,” Emmett mumbled as he shot us a scowl and stomped toward the treadmills.

Ainsley beamed at me. “That was good fun. A perfect birthday treat.”

I couldn’t believe today was April 12th . A full year after we’d made our important resolutions. I could be mere hours from fulfilling mine.