Wrapped Up in You (Heartbreaker Bay, #8)(12)

“Less chitchatting, ladies, and more ass-kicking! If you never change, you’ll never change!”

Ivy glanced at their personal trainer. Tina was dark-skinned, dark-eyed, and thanks to sneakers with a three-inch rubber-soled heels and black braids piled into a mountain on top of her head, she was also well over six feet tall. Tina’s day job was running the coffee shop at the Pacific Pier Building, and in the coffee shop she was all sweet and kind.

In the gym, she was a tyrannical drill sergeant.

Ivy turned to Tae, who was Jake’s sister and a mathematical wizard and insurance adjuster. “I thought she’d be as gentle here as she is at her coffee shop.”

Tae laughed. “She’s about as gentle as my brother. And they both learned it in the same place—the military.”

“That’s right, sweet cakes,” Tina said. “Don’t be fooled by this gorg hair and figure. Back when I was Tim and right out of the army, I was a middleweight champion.”

“Wow.” Haley looked impressed. “So you kick ass for real, not just for show.”

“Nah.” Tina smiled. “I like my face too much now. So class it is. But there’s something immensely satisfying about kicking the shit out of a bag, isn’t there?”

“Yes,” Ivy agreed. If there was one thing she liked about getting up early and having to exercise, it was the satisfaction of beating the shit out of a bag.

“Then let’s get serious,” Tina said. “Come on, ladies. This isn’t elementary school and you’re not on recess. Look at Abi, she’s brand spanking new here and she’s kicking your asses.”

Everyone looked at Abi, who ran the wedding shop in the Pacific Pier Building. She always looked perfectly together, but at the moment, she was drenched in sweat and breathing like she’d just run a 5K. But she waved cheerfully at everyone, looking like she was having the time of her life.

Ivy sighed.

“You’re on Tina Time, ladies,” Tina barked. “So start moving.” She was hands on hips, back to serious tyrannical taskmaster.

And let’s face it, Ivy needed a taskmaster.

“I want to see you go at it like you’re eighteen again!” Tina yelled.

“I was stupid at eighteen,” Ivy muttered.

“Hey,” Tae said breathlessly. “If you can’t look back on your younger self and say wow, I used to be stupid, you’re probably still stupid.”

“More energy!” Tina yelled. “Again! One-two punch, jab, cross, and then a big front kick!”

Ivy repeated the routine to herself as she went through the motions, her limbs liquefying.

“We’re targeting your shoulders, triceps, and core, as well as the quads and glutes,” Tina said. “You ladies want nice asses, right? Go hard or don’t go at all!”

“Going hard isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be,” Tae managed to gasp out breathlessly, sagging against her bag, hugging it in order to stay upright. “I’m whupped.”

“Leave it all in the room, ladies!”

Haley sighed. “I always do,” she muttered. “Not that it’s getting me anywhere.”

“You gotta rise up and take the challenge, don’t hide!”

Ivy managed to keep up with the nonstop punching and kicking to the rhythmic beat, barely, but she was with Haley. She’d rather be back in bed.

When the torture—er, class—ended, they all crawled out of the gym whimpering and sweating. Ivy hit the showers, dressed, and had to run to catch the bus. Sagging back on her seat, she took a moment to close her eyes. She was exhausted from too little sleep and spending much of the few precious hours she’d had staring up at the rafters and the ancient old fan that hung from them, slowly whirling round and round.

Worrying. Stressing . . .

Yes, she played at being the tough girl on the block, but the truth—her truth—was that she was really a big fat chicken. So the knowledge that someone had helped themselves into her truck, the one she’d worked her fingers to the bone for, the one she’d bled for, heart and soul, killed her. It was her personal space, the first she’d ever had, and she felt incredibly proud of it.

And yet someone had broken into it like it was nothing, destroying her door, a whole bunch of food, and stealing her hard earned cash.

And more . . .

She closed her eyes on that thought and shook her head, knowing it was far more than that. She’d played it off to Kel like it was no big deal because she didn’t need his help, didn’t need anyone’s help, but it was a big deal to her. From a lifetime of living where creaks in the night meant something bad, she’d always had a hard time falling asleep. Living in San Francisco the past year in one spot, the same spot, even with the rough neighborhood outside, she’d somehow started to believe she was safe.

But she was never safe, and she was far too alone. And last night had seriously shaken her sense of privacy and security and safety. Except . . .

She hadn’t been alone.

Kel had stood there in the opened truck door, gun drawn, eyes cool, calm, and sharp.

Shock had been Ivy’s first emotion, and right on the heels of that had come a different emotion altogether.

She still wasn’t ready to put a name to it, but she did know one thing. With a panic attack looming and a helpless rage making her shake, she’d felt backed into a corner and she’d never been good at that. So of course, she’d reacted predictably, which meant she’d been cold and rude.