Age Is But An Illusion

Noah

Admittedly, Noah had been surprised to see that not only had Veronica returned alone the next day but that two weeks later, she was still as committed to her workouts.

She even got on the scale at the end of the first week and confessed she'd weighed herself that first day and told him what her real weight had been. She also explained why Nellie hadn't come back, but most importantly, he saw a renewed energy in her now. She asked him to work her out as hard as he could. Then she'd turned blood red when he smirked while telling her he'd never had a female put so much pressure on him. That had finally gotten a smile out of her—a really sweet smile at that.

At the end of week two when it came time to weigh in, she was nervous. She'd lost five pounds the first week, and she'd been ecstatic. "Ready?" he asked. He already saw the difference in her face. Her cheekbones were becoming more defined, and her sweatpants were looking even looser than when he'd first laid eyes on her.

She took a deep breath before stepping up on the scale. Her head fell back, and stayed in that position, obviously not wanting to see what her weight was. Noah moved the weights on the scale, adjusting them until the bar was balanced.

Veronica still didn't look down. "How much?" she asked.

Even after two weeks, he still hadn't gotten used to her husky voice. He'd only heard voices like that in the movies and on television. It was all kinds of sexy. and at times, he struggled to stay focused when she spoke to him. They'd started talking a little more now—becoming more comfortable around each other.

When he saw how much she'd lost, he smiled. "How much do you think?"

"I don't know," she said. "But I'm gonna be so mad if it's zero. I've heard that could happen."

"Six pounds, baby!"

Her face jerked back down, her jaw dropped, and then she turned to him, her eyes wide open. She threw her arms around his neck, catching him completely off guard. Before he could react or even get a chance to get an arm around her, she pulled her arms back. "I'm sorry." Her hands flew to her mouth, but she couldn't hide her smile.

"Don't be." He smiled, a little irked with himself that he didn't think fast enough. He would've loved to have felt what was under all those loose sweatshirts she always wore.

"I can't believe it! Eleven pounds in two weeks. I thought for sure I'd lose less this week than the first."

"Why? You worked just as hard if not harder."

"I know. I know. But I was still scared I wouldn't."

Her bright smile made him smile even bigger too. "You're doing it, Veronica. I'm gonna go ahead and admit something. That first night you were here, I was a little nervous you weren't coming back."

She bit her bottom lip, and he hated how something that small could distract him. "I almost didn't," she admitted sheepishly. "In fact," her smile suddenly dissolved, "if Nellie hadn't had that asthma attack, I might not have. She's the one that pushed me to come back, and I couldn't say 'no.'"

Noah felt guilty about being thankful for Nellie's attack. Not only was he a full-time trainer now, training a few other boxers, besides Veronica, who paid real well for his services, he was really beginning to enjoy his training sessions with her. She actually listened when he talked about the work he'd done on his bike and his plans to try to make it as a light-heavyweight boxer, once he recovered from his shoulder injury. Most girls' eyes glazed over after a few minutes of either subject, but Veronica listened intently—even asked a lot of questions.

"How is Nellie doing?"

"Oh, much better." That smile was back. "But she's always hated working out. I knew the day we started, she was really only doing this for me."

"And you?" He smirked. "You didn't hate working out? That first day you sure looked like you did."

She laughed. "Well, I hadn't worked out in years. You almost killed me." She picked up her gym bag and smiled at him. "But I'm glad you did. I needed that."

"I'm just glad you came back. Even though I'm sorry Nellie had to have an asthma attack to get you back in here."

She flung the gym bag over her shoulder. "Well, like they say: God works in mysterious ways. It took her attack to get me to do what I absolutely had to do. You don't even know the half of it."

"So tell me about it." The smile dissolved again, and he ground his teeth in regret. "Only if you want. I know it's none of my business."

She shook her head. "It's just a bunch of depressing crap. You wouldn't want to hear about it. Trust me."

"I trust you. If it's personal and you'd rather not, I understand, but if you ever do, I don't mind hearing about it."

She tilted her head. "I'd rather not now, but I wouldn't mind going out for a celebratory drink if you're up for it."

"I don't—"

"Okay, stop the lecture." She held her hand up, smiling. "Alcohol is not a part of my diet, but I've been really good about keeping it to only one or two glasses of wine a week since I started working out. And tonight would be the night. I haven't had any all week."

Had she really asked him to go for a drink with her? She'd grown on him in two weeks, and he'd never seen her out of her sweats, ponytail, and no makeup. He knew so little about her except she was more determined than most girls her size to try and whip back into shape. And she was smart. That he definitely picked up on. "I'm not twenty-one."

For the second time that night, her jaw fell open, only this time it didn't feel good. "You're not?"

"It's not like I've never drank." Hell, he and the guys had been drinking for years. "I just can't go into a bar and drink ... yet."

Her eyes were still big and overly concerned. "How old are you?"

He knew she couldn't be more than twenty-one or twenty-two. He towered over her, and at times, she seemed so small and delicate next to his six-foot-two stature. "I'll be twenty soon," he said with confidence.

"Oh my God." Her absolutely horrified reaction was not what he was expecting. "I'm so sorry. I had no—"

He had to laugh. "What? I'm legal!"

"I know," she said, hurrying her step toward the exit of the gym. "I had no idea. I apologize."

"Again, for what?"

"I just didn't know."

"So I'm not twenty-one. How old are you? Twenty-one, twenty-two?"

She glanced at him, her eyes still lit with bewilderment. Since she wasn't slowing down, he took a step in front of her to make her stop. "How old are you?"

She turned away and hesitated for moment before answering. Finally she looked back at him lifting an eyebrow. "I'm twenty-eight, Noah."

It came as a surprise. She didn't look it, but the way she was acting you'd think she was forty. "All right, so you're twenty-eight. You don't look it." She didn't, not at all, especially now that she'd lost a few pounds. She tried to walk around him, but he moved with her. "Don't get all weird on me, Veronica. If there's one thing I've learned my whole life, time and age are but an illusion." The crease that suddenly made an appearance between her eyes again made him smile. "I'll be twenty in a week by the way. You lost eleven pounds in two weeks because of me—your nineteen-year-old trainer."

She stared at him for a moment then the crease disappeared with her forced smile. "I know. And you'll never know how much I appreciate it. I'll see you Monday, okay?"

She walked around him and was almost out the door, but he had to ask. "Why never?"

Glancing back, she took a moment to answer. "I mean, I'll just never be able to thank you enough." She shrugged before waving at him and walked out the door.

Noah showered at the gym before leaving, thinking about Veronica the entire time—twenty-eight. She'd never mentioned a husband or boyfriend for that matter. But then their conversations had never gotten that personal. Now that she knew just how old he really was, he got the feeling they never would. In a weird way, that bothered him. Maybe he'd just make sure things didn't change. After all, he'd meant what he said. Age was just an illusion.