Chapter 11
Matt
I got to the gym too early this morning, so I’m on the treadmill, running.
Scarlett doesn’t seem like much of an early riser.
The earliest appointment I can get with her is eleven—half the day is gone.
I’ve already made a few phone calls, had breakfast, drunk too many cups of coffee, and now I’m feeling anxious as hell because I need to see her.
It’s fucking weird.
I look to the entrance for the fiftieth time to see if she’s here yet. My chest relaxes when she walks through the door, until she gets closer. She’s walking with a limp—trying her best to hide it, but I notice something is wrong. She makes her way over to me while I’m still running.
“Hello Mr. Reding. Let me drop off my bag and we can get started. Shoulders and biceps sound okay today?”
She walks away at a slow pace after I nod in greeting. I can tell she showered and smells like something tropical I want to drink—peaches, mangoes, and coconut. Goddamn, I bet she tastes delectable.
My first inclination is to stop this session if she’s hurt.
Why would she come in if she can barely walk?
On the other hand, that would mean I would miss out on the chance to spend time with her.
It’d be better if I didn’t stay, so I could get some space.
I should make sure I’m not hung up on one woman, but the need to be close is stronger.
She returns a few minutes later. “Why don’t you follow me over here?”
She walks towards the free weights, leaving her intoxicating smell in the air. Looks like I’m going to have to fight off a boner the whole session. Worth it.
Staying quiet would be a smart move, but I want to know why she’s injured. “I thought we would’ve worked on legs today.”
She turns bright red, which is fitting for her name. She responds without looking at me. “Better to get the upper body out of the way.”
Bullshit. “Huh. In the past I’ve always mixed up lower and upper body.”
“That’s good too, but you don’t have to.”
“Is something wrong? Are you sore?” I ask. “You’re walking a little strangely. Maybe you need the day off.”
“I may have hit it hard last night,” she says with a shrug.
Hard with who?
There’s no way she’s working out with anyone else today. I’m going to cancel her appointments with the front desk. “It’s okay if you need to sit or something.”
“Mr. Reding, although I’m not one hundred percent today, I assure you, I can assist you in training. Now, you want to grab what you feel is a good starting point?”
“Yeah, I like starting off slow,” I say as I grab the weights .
“Maybe a challenge would suit you better. Try five pounds heavier.”
I look back to her. “I thought you told me to choose.”
“I thought you’d make a good decision; I was wrong.”
The corner of my mouth ticks up as I pick up the most weight I can handle and start pumping biceps, keeping my eye on her.
She’s trying to keep a placid face, but her eyes widen at the amount I’ve picked up.
I hope it’s impressive. I keep quiet for a while, but I need to get to the front desk to make sure no other appointments will be booked.
“I forgot my water. Be right back.”
I walk to the front desk associate. She straightens up and blushes a little when she sees me walking up to her. That is the usual response I get from women. Unless your name is Scarlett, evidently.
I peek over my shoulder. Scarlett has her back to us. Perfect.
“Hello. I need Miss Scarlett’s appointments to be canceled for the rest of the day without disclosing it to her. Can y’all help me with that?” I give her my best smile. “I want to make sure Scarlett will be paid, and I’ll pay for those clients’ time in addition for your discretion.”
“Yes, I think I can handle that,” she replies with a seductive look. “I can handle a lot of things.”
I nod. There’s no way I’m hitting on her. I’m obviously thinking about someone else. I pass her a few hundred-dollar bills and she charges the other appointments to my account.
“Thanks for the help, ma’am. Make sure no one else gets booked with her today.” I knock on the too big desk.
“No problem. Let me know if you need anything else. I’d be happy to help!”
I walk back to Scarlett, prepared to be a perfect gentleman.
It seems like she needs to be back in bed.
I can’t toss her over my shoulder and place her where I want without getting arrested, so a slow game it is.
I adjust all the weights on the machines myself as we go through the workout.
She should be doing as little as possible.
“You know what you’re doing, huh?” she asks with a lifted brow.
“Always.”
“If you always know, any particular reason you need a trainer then?”
“Pretty sure you already asked me that, Miss Scarlett. Thought you could teach my body some new things—remember?” I give her a sly grin.
She looks away, trying to hide the blush creeping up on her cheeks. It makes me want to see her outside of the gym. Preferably tomorrow, since I won’t see her for a training session. She’s off tomorrow. I shouldn’t be trying to see her, but fuck it.
I have a feeling just asking her out isn’t going to work. She’s still fighting her attraction towards me. Even though I’ve been catching her checking me out the entire session. Best to ask some subtle questions, so I don’t come off as the creepy gym guy.
“Do you go to the trail we ran into each other at often?” I start.
“Just depends.” She shrugs.
Deciding to play mysterious, I see.
“Any plans this weekend? ”
“Yeah, washing my hair.” She looks at me with a bored expression .
“Your hair looked wet when you arrived. Trying to impress someone?”
“If I wanted to impress someone, I would’ve actually styled it. And I wouldn’t want to impress a client because I don’t date them.”
Feisty this morning.
Did she just say she doesn’t date clients?
“Huh. Is that the gym’s policy or your own rule?” I continue with my reps.
“It’s part of the gym’s policy. I happen to agree with it. It looks unprofessional, and it would be weird to train a client I started dating. A bit inappropriate.”
“Inappropriate or exciting?”
“I just told you inappropriate.” She juts out a hip and puts a hand on her waist.
“Hanging out doesn’t fall into the inappropriate category.”
“What does ‘hanging out’ mean to you?” She narrows her eyes.
“Time with someone.”
She looks around and huffs. “I don’t want to hang out with someone who acts like a dipwad.”
“Hey, I get that.” I put my hands up like I’m surrendering. Not a chance. “I just want to make it up to you. Our,” I pause to clear my throat, “initial meeting wasn’t my best foot forward. I’m sorry ’bout that; I wasn’t myself that day. I’d like to show you I’m really not an asshole.”
“Why do you care what I think?”
“You’re different.”
“Because I won’t sleep with you?” She smirks .
“You been thinking ’bout sleeping with me?” I lift one side of my mouth.
“If you count smothering you with a pillow while you’re sleeping, then yes.” She rolls her eyes.
“I’d count it. I was thinking ’bout more of a day to make up for my behavior. You know, as acquaintances.”
She hesitates, but I know she’s considering it at least. I pull a card from my pocket and hold it out. “Call me tonight and I’ll have all the details.”
“We’re not going on a date,” she states as she takes my card.
“Whatever you say. I’ll be talking with you soon, Miss Scarlett.”
I walk out knowing her stare is on my back. Mission accomplished.