Page 54 of Muscle Cub

Ben smirked. “I’m sure Austin’ll give you a ride home.”

Austin smiled. “Guess it’s just us, then.”

19

Austin suggested the restaurant next door. “Do you ever eat here?”

“Yeah. My mom actually loves this place.”

“Is she vegetarian?”

“No. She’s a lady who likes to pick at salads when she eats in public.”

He chuckled. “Well, I’m a man who likes to destroy a cheeseburger with or without an audience. But I feel like I’d be a shitty trainer if I didn’t encourage you to eat something clean right now.”

I opened the door for him. “You’re definitely not a shitty trainer.”

“A glowing testimonial. Promise me you’ll leave a review online.” When we got in line to order, Austin caught my eye. “Thanks again for coming.”

“Of course. I’m embarrassed to tell you how long it’s been since I’ve done anything like that.”

Austin shrugged. “No worries. We all go through periods where we fall off, and then we get back into it. It’s a choice to get strong. To be strong. You said yes, and you showed up.” Austin bumped my shoulder with his. “You looked great out there too. In your fancy workout duds and your new kicks.”

“I tried to keep up with my pregnant teammate. But holy shit, did she make me feel out of shape.”

Austin chuckled. “Few can keep up with Ashley. We call her Xena.”

“Are the nicknames an Austin thing or…”

“It’s a CrossFit thing too. Originating in military culture. For the record, I’m a lover and a pacifist.”

“Well, I appreciate that you didn’t yell at us. My ego couldn’t have handled it.”

“I believe in positive motivation. If negativity worked, we’d all be our best selves already. You did great.”

“Well.” I blushed again under his simple praise. “It almost got a little bloody there at the end.”

“My bad for not warning y’all about the boxes on the polished wood floor.”

“No, you explained everything very thoroughly. You’re a good coach. Thanks for saving me.”

“My pleasure.” Now Austin was the one blushing.

The cashier interrupted. “What can I get you guys?”

I touched the small of Austin’s back, urging him to go first.

He was already staring up at the menu board, so he didn’t see the once-over she gave us. I wondered how we must look together—Austin with his ripped clothes, guns blazing; me in khaki cargo shorts and a V-neck T-shirt, trying to suck in my stomach. Charles and I had been one of those couples who dressed alike.

Austin ordered a veggie lasagna, black bean burger with avocado, mushroom risotto, and a stuffed bell pepper.

“Student ID?” the cashier asked. Most establishments offered a discount to university students and employees.

Before he could answer, I flashed my faculty badge. “This is together. Add a falafel wrap and two drinks, please.”

“Thanks, Prof!” Austin smiled.

The cashier shot me another cool, appraising look as she passed our empty cups across the counter along with a numbered sign to set on our table.