Logan Chapter 129

-Emory-

This might be the worst idea I’ve ever had. Somehow, I thought I’d just have like a training montage of exercise, then I’d throw a few punches at Hammer’s hands, and then we’d high five, the sweat would drip attractively down the sides of our faces, and I’d know how to fight. I even got myself cute workout clothes- a matching leggings and crop top set, and a hydro flask with not one drop of alcohol in it. I’m even wearing sneakers, for crying out loud. I pulled my hair up in a high pony and fully planned to look dewy and adorable when Logan gets home tonight. Obvious in hindsight, but none of that is what’s happening. What’s happening is fucking laps. I’m running and choking and possibly dying while Hammer literally runs circles around me for “encouragement”.

With Hammer orbiting me, it’s a lot harder to stop or slow down without us bumping into each other, but I still manage by completely falling to the ground in what feels like cardiac arrest. Hammer squats next to me, looming mercifully between me and the somehow-scorching March sunlight. The effect almost gives him a halo, and I’m embarrassingly reminded of how I first met Logan. “You’ve been slacking on your health, rookie. You haven’t even run a mile yet, and that’s only using the loosest definition of running I’ve ever used.” Asshole. “I’m not allowed to touch you, so you’ll have to drag your own ass out of the dirt.”

Logan created that rule. He claimed it was because we don’t know Hammer very well yet, but I think it’s mostly that his wolf is jealous that they have to spend all day in an office with Anna instead of getting sweaty with me outside. Hammer is supposed to be teaching me self defense, and when Logan gets home he’ll work with me on shifting. Maybe. “I thought I was going to learn how to defend myself, not become more defenseless because I can’t freaking walk.” Even after years in New York, I can’t make myself curse as well as the “natives”. I wipe the sweat from my brow, but finally convince my body to lumber back vertical. I sway a bit, but I’m still up when I start walking back to the house in protest.

“Such language! First rule of self defense is always to get out of the clusterfuck. So yes, you’ll want to be able to do enough damage to buy you some space, but then you have to use that space to run like your life depends on it. Because it might. Plus, more stamina never hurt anyone. Especially not you.” I hate that he has good points. Good points don’t belong in the pity party I’m currently hosting and attending.

“Especially not you.” I mouth to myself behind his back, but it’s like he can feel the attitude I’m throwing his way, because he laughs mockingly.

“Even a human man could outrun you right now, rookie. That’s just shameful for a maybe-wolf like the illustrious Fated Luna.” I feel the blush burn my cheeks, even behind the redness from the effort of running. So I’m a little out of shape.

“You’d think with this whole might-shift business, I’d get some of the physical perks too. Like the super smell, better hearing, and some athleticism. I don’t understand why I’m getting short changed.” I have to stop for a second so I can pant for enough air to continue. “Actually, now that I truly think about it, it might be better to put a hold on all of this until after I shift. What if my body drastically changes after shifting and I have to relearn everything? That sounds tedious.” I’m envisioning myself changing into a wolf, then back into a human only to find myself leaner, hotter, and more poised than ever before. It’s a nice fantasy, but nothing else has worked out that way so far. I won’t pin my hopes on it.

“The tedious keeps you tight. In the forces, you don’t go until you get it right, you go until you can’t get it wrong. The details are the determinator.” I’m fully leaned over, hands on my knees, trying to breathe while he has time and energy to spout these jarhead idioms at me. Self defense is the worst idea I’ve ever had. I’d rather be kidnapped, I think.

“You know Hammer, you should really start a line of greeting cards. I think they’d be really popular with people who have no ability to feel joy.” I can finally stand up straight enough to deliver my scorching burn, only to see Hammer smile and shake his head at me. Am I recovering faster than I would have before? It’s hard to tell when I didn’t habitually exercise ever before in my damned life.

“Just passing down wisdom, rookie. You should be thankful- I could just get nice and sweaty and keep upwind to motivate you. I bet you’d run, then.” Maybe my nose is a little more sensitive than I thought, because even just smelling his body odor from here has my face screwing up.

“You know, Hammer, I don’t say this lightly. I really think you might be a worse brother than my actual brothers are. You should be embarrassed.” I’m just lashing out now. Misery loves company, and all that. Hammer’s optimism still isn’t damaged.

“On the contrary, that’s one of the best compliments I’ve gotten in awhile. Now, light a fire under your ass, rookie. I want you to get another mile in before we go back inside so I can close the deal with one of your cooks. If I can swing both, I’ll halve your laps for tomorrow.” My nausea only gets worse at this proclamation.

“Gross. And stop calling me rookie. I have a name and a title now and that’s neither of them.” He gestures impatiently to the rough “track” we’ve improvised for my training.

“You’re not my Luna, and nicknames are just a part of it. Embrace the process, rookie. Now move! I’m hungry and lunch is coming up.” With a dramatic groan, I go back to running the track within Hammer’s orbit. Worst idea I’ve ever had.