Just One Night Together (Flatiron Five Fitness #3) - Deborah Cooke Page 0,83
I served in Afghanistan.” He swallowed, aware that he had their complete attention. “And I have PTSD.”
Theo gave a low whistle. “That’s a big load to carry alone, even without your mom being sick.”
Cassie moved to Damon’s side and put her hand over his. “What can we do?”
“I’m getting to that.” Damon took a deep breath. “I went for therapy and learned coping strategies when I left the service, and that worked until my mom got sick. The nightmares came back, which I guess is pretty typical, but now they’ve changed. My therapist thinks this is a good thing and something to work with, so he wants me to participate in an intense program. He wants to see if he can take my healing to the next step.”
“Boston,” Ty said quietly.
“Boston,” Damon agreed. “For a month.”
Kyle spun in his chair, then pointed at Theo. “How about you take point on the construction out west? I could stay here and make sure the shifts at the club are covered.”
“No problem,” Theo said, indicating the plans. “With this, we can really get rolling.”
“Maybe we can open by June,” Cassie said. She smiled at Damon. “I’m up for three nights a week in the club for the month, so you can take that program.”
“Thanks, Cassie.”
“I’ll do Fridays,” Ty said. “And don’t forget we have Hunter now.”
“Thursdays and Saturdays are mine,” Kyle said. He grabbed a pad of paper and started to make notes. “What about your personal coaching?” he asked. “I can take them while you’re away, if you update me on each member.”
“I’ve got notes on each one of them,” Damon said. “Goals and progress, strengths and weaknesses, areas to push.”
“Great. It should be easy for me to step in.”
“You won’t miss me at all,” Damon teased, relieved that it had been so easily managed.
“Of course, we’ll miss you,” Cassie said. “You’ll have to call in and keep us updated.”
“No, actually, that’s the thing.” Damon told them the last detail. “They control the environment completely. I need to surrender my cell phone when I check in.”
“Social media withdrawal!” Kyle said and pretended to twitch. “I’d never survive a day, let alone a month.”
“Meesha might drop into a coma,” Cassie said.
“I can take a book,” Damon told them.
“Hard core,” Theo said.
“He was a Marine,” Cassie chided. She met Damon’s gaze steadily. “I think it’s great that you have this chance for a new therapy and that you’re asking for help. I also think it’s awesome that you confided in us.” To Damon’s surprise, she gave him an impulsive hug. “I feel like we’re becoming friends now.”
“Oh, so now you’re going to show him your new tattoo before I get to see it,” Kyle said, coming around the table to clap Damon on the back. Ty shook his hand and Theo gave him a hug. He felt like he had a support network.
One he’d always had, but never dared to use.
It was just the way Haley had said it would be.
“It’s still puffy,” Cassie complained.
“Bull. You just don’t want to show me,” Kyle complained. “Did you get the name of your one true love over your heart?”
“No, that’s your trick,” Cassie retorted. She gripped the front edges of her sweatshirt. “I guess I could show it to you, if you make it worth my while.”
“Isn’t it supposed to bring you love and romance?” Theo asked.
“That’s why she wants to work in the club!” Kyle said. “Where better to meet a hot guy and find romance?”
“If Cassie doesn’t want to show us, she doesn’t have to,” Ty said.
“I think she does want to show us,” Damon said and she grinned at him.
Cassie peeled off her sweatshirt and spun around. “Ta da!” She was wearing her black yoga gear, with her hair tied up in a ponytail. Beneath the sweatshirt, she had on a black tank top that showed her muscle definition to advantage. On her left bicep was the new tattoo.
Kyle peered at it. “Shoes?” he asked, his brows drawn together in confusion.
The tattoo showed a pair of shoes, the kind of Mary Janes with high heels worn by dancers. One was on its side. Behind the shoes were the numbers 2006 and in the middle was a single red heart.
“Not just any shoes,” Cassie said. “Those are dancing shoes.”
“Oh right.” Kyle rolled his eyes. He raised his hands. “Why shoes?”
“Where did you dance in 2006?” Damon asked. “You must have loved it.”
“Aha! At least someone is perceptive,” Cassie said, turning on Damon with a