Page 35 of Just for Me
The man next to Hayden said, “Butch boyfriend, honey,” and kept squatting.
Hayden said, “This is not all right. I’m working out. I read an—”
“Yeh, no,” Luke said, then added, “Come outside, and I’ll tell you why not.” You were meant to talk things over. Right. He’d do that.
Another man was edging in from the other side. “I’m not saying I could take you,” he told Luke, “but I’ll have a go. If we all piled in … Come on, you lot.” He looked around and bellowed it into the sudden silence, because the instructor had switched off the music. A little knot of men, sporting the kind of grooming that told you they were probably not the straightest arrows in the quiver, crowded around, and somebody pushed Luke in the back, or tried to. He felt it, he just didn’t move.
Kane said, “Oi.” Mildly, but he also put a hand out and was probably pushing back, and since Kane had a hand the size of a rugby ball, that would be some push.
The instructor hopped off the platform and hustled out. Calling for security, Luke guessed. This was even more stupid than the stoush amongst the fruit and veg, because this time, he was the one starting it. He also had the feeling the cops would be here soon. Again.
He ignored everybody else and told Hayden, “You’re hurting yourself.”
“I read a thing,” Hayden said.
“A thing?” Luke asked. “What thing?”
“I read a thing, too,” the man who’d objected first said. “About abusive partners.”
Kane said, “Luke? Abusive?”
“Honey,” the man told him, “take several steps back.”
“Hang on,” Kane said. “I’m sure we can—”
Luke was still ignoring him. “What thing?” he asked Hayden.
Hayden was turning red now. “Itsaidthat exercise was good for … you know. What happened. After a couple of days of recovery.”
“Afterwhathappened?” the objecting man asked. “The mind doesn’t exactly boggle, because we can all see, but—you know, sweetie,” he told Hayden, “you can say no. Yes, helookslovely and fierce, but is he, really? If he hurts you? And the other one, too? I know they say there’s no correlation of size with, well,size,and everybodythinksthey wantit, but when you come down to brass tacks …”
Luke was sure he was so red by now, his head was about to burst into flames. Kane looked gobsmacked. Getting an education, Luke guessed.
“He has concussion!” Luke said, because there was no other way out of this.
“Oh, sweetie,” the objecting man said. “No. Not if he hits you in thehead.”
“I did not,” Luke said through his teeth, “hit him in the head. Somebody else did.”
“The article said,” Hayden told him, “that moderate exercise after two days of rest was helpful in regaining cognitive function. It’s been almost two days, and the wedding is tomorrow! I can’t be stupid for it!”
“You’re nevermarryinghim,” the objecting man said. “Gurl, it’s intervention time.”
“No,” Hayden said. “I’m marrying two other people. I mean, I’m notmarryingthem, but I’m—”
Luke said, “The article probably said that an individualized, progressive sub-symptom-threshold aerobic exercise program was helpful in regaining cognitive function and returning to play. That means a treadmill. Amonitoredtreadmill. I’d have been happy to help you with that. All you had to do was ask.”
“I’m doing an aerobic exercise program!” Hayden said. “All right, also some strength training, but itisan individualized, progressive program, because it’s my program that I’ve worked up to. I’m not an idiot.”
“A treadmill,” Luke repeated, “or a stationary bike. This is too much. Is your head hurting?”
“Well, yes,” Hayden said, “a bit. But—”
“Was it hurting when you started?” Luke asked.
“Well, no,” Hayden said. “Not as much. But I’ve been pushing it a bit, so—”
Security was here. Brilliant. Luke could tell, because it was a man in a black T-shirt with “Security” printed on it in white, in case you’d missed the overdeveloped upper body. He’d skipped a fair few leg days, Luke noticed, which meant he’d go over like a ninepin the moment you gave him a push. Power came from the lower body.
