Page 11 of Brick

If she was going to forget Brick Barlow, she had her work cut out for her.

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“This may be a little harder than I thought,” Liv mumbled as she curled up into a ball on the mat.

When she’d taken the plunge and accepted her sister’s invitation to try a Krav Maga class, she’d expected to feel strong and empowered, not like roadkill.

She and Izzy were the last two people remaining in the mid-sized room. Designed for basic workouts and sparring, it was bare, except for the padding on the floor. Nowhere to hide. A large window took up one wall, filling the open space with sunlight.

Izzy held out her hand and laughed as Liv slowly pulled herself up. “Don’t be such a baby. You should’ve signed up for one of these classes years ago.”

“Easy for you to say,” she grumbled. “You work out in your sleep.”

Iz wasn’t taking the class with her. She was teaching it, and her big sister showed no mercy.

“Hey, you said you wanted to do this. It’s not enough to talk the talk, Nugget, you’ve got to walk the walk.” Ignoring her grimace at the family nickname, Iz continued, “You don’t work in the best part of town. You live alone. You need to be able to protect yourself. It won’t do you any good if I go easy on you.” Her sister cracked open a bottle of water and handed it over.

At least Iz didn’t doubt her ability to put herself through the physical challenge, though this would be tougher than she expected. Her arm shook as she lifted the water bottle to her lips. “I know.” She trudged toward the door. “I don’t want you to take it easy on me. I can do this.”

Izzy’s hearty laugh boomed behind her. “I might believe it if you weren’t hobbling around like an old lady. C’mon. Get showered. We’re going to be late for lunch with Carol.”

The hot water soothed her quivering muscles. Izzy had worked her like a dog. Running. Cardio. Punching. Kicking. She had no illusions of becoming the same kind of badass as her sister. For one thing, Izzy’s life revolved around the gym. Nothing about Liv was hard. She was a nurturer. She fought for people, not against them.

Still, this class provided a chance to prove something to herself—and to her brother and everyone else who considered her a fragile flower.

Pride swelled in her chest. No fragile flowers here.

And check me out, stepping out of my safety zone.

Now that she was healthy—and single—she needed to try new things, expand her world. Skydiving was only the tip of the iceberg.

Looking back on her time with Ryan, she’d been a cardboard cut-out of the woman she wanted to be. She did her work, but she hadn’t been connecting with the kids. Thanks to students like Devon, teaching had become more than simply a job.

She had pleasant acquaintances, but no real friends other than Carol. Ryan’s world had been her world before she got sick, and it all went away when their relationship ended. It really hadn’t been much of a loss, but realizing that took time.

It would be easy to blame her ex for washing the vibrancy from her life. But had it ever really been there? Probably not. Celebrating her new lease on life meant living it differently.

She smiled as she toweled off. Jumping out of the plane rocked as a follow-up to the cliff diving trip at Lake Hartwell. She still couldn’t believe she’d done it. Carol had written several other items they still needed to mark off on their Dare to Dream list. Scuba diving. Racecar driving.

Her cheeks warmed. Maybe she needed to add a forbidden romance to the list or at least add it to the unwritten pile of crazy shit she’d been trying. Like karaoke. The old Liv—the one who played it safe—she would have never dragged Carol to Kings of Karaoke to face her fear of singing in public with a rousing rendition of “Moves Like Jagger.” The old Liv would have never gone to Mardi Gras and flashed her boobs on Bourbon Street. And she never would have ridden the mechanical bull at PBR Atlanta.

Every one of those things scared the crap out of her, but she didn’t regret any of them. She liked being the kind of woman who pushed the envelope. It was liberating to turn her back on being afraid.

Izzy drove her to the sushi bar down the street. Liv would have preferred Chipotle, but her sister offered to pay, and she had a weird thing about what she would eat.

Carol stood right inside the front door and greeted her with a warm hug. She had laughter in her eyes as she pulled away. “You look rode hard and put up wet, girlfriend.”

“Fuck you.” She meant it, but only a little, and Carol took it in stride, linking their arms together as they followed the hostess to the table.

Iz ordered a plate of raw stuff, while Liv opted for a shrimp tempura roll in a Bento Box. She’d earned her carbs, dammit.

Carol ordered lo mein.

The restaurant had a trendy and an upscale look with fancy light fixtures and a huge water feature at the center of the dining room. White linen cloths covered the tables, while chrome and black lacquered accents popped throughout the room.

As she sipped her Miso soup, she eyed her sister. Izzy sat straight in her chair, her face watchful and alert. They shared the same blonde hair and blue eyes, but beyond their genetics, they couldn’t be more different. Iz was all hard lines and sharp edges. She wore her hair pulled into a tight French braid. Even her clothes were crisp and defined, with an ironed Oxford shirt and dark jeans. At least she rolled up her sleeves in deference to the heat.

Liv liked soft fabrics and flowing material—dresses mostly, like the one she wore today—but even her jeans were supple and worn. The only rough thing she’d ever wanted against her skin had turned her away in the bar last night. And wow, look how well she was doing in her efforts not to think of him.

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