Might as well lay it all out there while I have him in his challenged mindset. “And for your final milestone—at sixty pounds lost, you go after the girl. The girl you are going to have to eventually tell me about.” I smirk at him, my eyes full of challenge. Before he can rebuff my plan, I quickly stand, pop my hip, and nod toward the door that leads out into the gym, telling him with my actions that it’s time to get to work.
Rising from his seat, he walks past me toward the door. “It’s like that, huh?”
“Yep,” I sass, popping the p. “Just like that.”
CHAPTER FIVE
MADDEN
“You’re runnin’”—inhale—“my ass like”—I inhale and grab my side as my feet pound against the treadmill—“we just stol—”
“Davenport, you’re provin’ Carter right with that attitude,” Jordan chides. Fuckin’ hell. I pull in a huge breath and grit my teeth, baring down as I push myself harder through the last half mile and finish strong.
When the mileage on the treadmill hits two miles, Jordan decreases the speed allowing me to try to catch my breath.
“You’re not having any chest pain, right?”
“I’m fine, Jordan,” I pant.
“Don’t dismiss me, Madden. Your heart rate is a little high, but that isn’t unusual. It’s my job to be concerned for your health, and until I become fully acquainted with your patterns, I’ll have these questions.” I roll my eyes and continue to slow my pace. “You’re not dying in my gym, Davenport!”
“You’re cute when you’re being a hard ass, but the dramatic side is a bit extra.”
“Did you really just call me extra and cute in the same sentence?”
“What can I say, I’m an honest and outspoken man, Jordan.”
She side-eyes me as she stops the treadmill then hands me a towel.
“Let’s cool down, and we’ll discuss your new diet.”
“My wha—”
“You want to get healthy, right?” She cuts me off.
“Obviously.”
“Then you have to make several changes to see the full effect of your weight loss,” she tells me as we walk slow laps around the track. “You can’t expect to exercise and eat like crap and see results. Did your doctor give you dietary instructions?”
“I thought those were just suggestions,” I scoff.
Jordan laughs. “Yes, he suggests you eat healthier before the fried chicken and grits kills ya.”
“Fried chicken ain’t been charged with murder yet, now.”
“Maybe not, but you’re killing yourself with all the saturated fats, sodium, and carbohydrates. And my guess is your daughter eats the same foods you eat, so you need to make this lifestyle change for the family, not just yourself.”
“Okay, killer. Baby steps. Let me adapt to this shit before I have to force it on Belle. I don’t want to interrupt her life anymore than necessary.” I don’t consider the weight of my words until they’re already out there, but Jordan doesn’t pry or push the topic.
“Baby steps are fine, but there are some hard limits.” She pulls her phone from the armband and pulls up an app, typing as we continue to walk. “I’ve just sent you an email with your login credentials to Dumb Belle’s fitness app. Download the app to your phone; your client profile and milestones have already been set. Part of my process is monitoring your diet in addition to your workouts. I’ll teach you to make the better choices with your meals, and we can discuss those choices during your training sessions.”
“So you follow me … through this app?”
“Yes, I’m actually the app developer. It’s helpful as a trainer to see what your macros are with each meal, because then I can align your workouts to get the best results.”
“Damn, this is far more involved than when I just hit the machines a few times a week.”
“It can be overwhelming, Madden, but you’ll be eager to work harder once you start to see results. The first couple of weeks are the hardest.”