Chapter 8 Sienna
SIENNA
“Five more counts, let’s do this. Session’s nearly done. You can do it. Come on, come on.”
My body is on fire, my muscles screaming at me to put these freaking weights down, but I can’t. I won’t.
Ever since starting to work with Davis, I’ve been pushing myself as far as I can go.
I’m really proud of my efforts, and I love the way Davis forces my body past what I thought it was capable of.
“Last one. Push hard. You can do it.”
I end up grunting as I do my final curl, then drop the weights down on the mat.
“Yes! Woman, you are a legend.” Davis beams at me, holding up his hand for a high five. I’m not sure I can even lift my arm to give him one.
He laughs, grabbing my wrist and pulling my hand up to slap against his. “You’re amazing.”
I nod, then give in to a smile.
I am pretty amazing. And I’ve come such a long way, thanks to Davis.
When I got pregnant with Oliver, I knew I’d be in for some morning sickness, the same way I always was, but I had not counted on that fetus sucking me dry.
I was sicker than I’d been with the other two pregnancies and ended up bedridden for ten weeks.
I even had a stint in the hospital when I was so dehydrated from throwing up, they were worried Oliver might not make it.
We nearly lost him, and I’d never felt so weak and desperate and pathetic in my life.
When he was born, I threw absolutely everything into being the best mom I possibly could, because I knew he was my last.
It broke my heart, because the busier my house got, the more I loved it.
If my body would have let me, I would have had a bunch more kids, but… I couldn’t go through another hideous pregnancy. So, I got my tubes tied, and that was that.
But then Oliver started kindergarten.
And he took to it like a freaking duck to water.
He doesn’t want to be home with Mommy. He wants to be at school.
And I’ve been stuck at home, trying to figure out what to do with my time.
I mean, sure. I’m busy taking care of the house and running errands and being the best taxi Mom and football Mom and music recital Mom and dance class Mom I can possibly be.
But there are long patches of the day where I feel completely lost, and I’m hating it.
Because I had Zoey so early, I never got more than my high school diploma.
I love motherhood, but I didn’t really think about how that can’t be a lifelong career because your kids grow up and need you less and less as they get older.
That’s the way it’s supposed to be, but damn… I was not ready for this aimless, empty feeling.
I have no idea what I’m supposed to do with my life now.
Which is why I started going to the gym, and why working with Davis has become my favorite part of the day.
I probably don’t need to come as religiously as I do, but I just love how strong my body’s getting. Working out is addictive, especially when you can see the results and feel so fantastic and energized.
Plus, Davis is funny and sweet. He’s helped shape my body—taken it from the soft, squidgy Mommy bod to these refined muscles that make me feel like freaking Wonder Woman.
I seriously love it.
This whole thing has given me purpose and meaning. It’s helped ease this restless itching inside my chest.
And, you know, it’s nice to have something that’s just for me.
Ever since becoming a mother, it’s been about putting everyone else first. Zander’s NFL career has been an important aspect of our lives, and I’ve made a lot of sacrifices to support him. I also continually make sacrifices for my kids in order to give them the best life possible.
But this gym thing…
Yeah, that’s just for me, and I’m going to hold on to it for as long as I can.
“You were fire today.” Davis grins at me, placing the weights back on the shelf and wiping down his forehead with the bottom of his T-shirt.
His body is all cut muscle. He works out a little alongside me, but mostly he’s just there to watch me, correct my positioning, encourage me. Which means he must exercise on his own time, and yep… it pays off. I’m sure single hearts are breaking everywhere. The guy’s married.
My lips twitch as he points to the floor. “Let’s do some stretching.”
“Yes, sir.”
He grins at me, and I lie on my back, letting him guide me through my stretches. He talks and jokes with me as he moves me to make the stretches deeper.
I groan, and he laughs. “Come on, lady. You can take it.”
Closing my eyes, I keep the stretch going until he lets me go and I can finally stand and shake it all off. That was a good workout. My skin’s all tingly, my muscles quivering as I gather up my water bottle.
“So, remember to check yourself on the carbs and sugar this weekend.” His eyes skim down my body. “Although, we can always work it off next week if you want to let loose and enjoy yourself a little.” He winks, and I laugh at his teasing.
“I’ll let myself have a treat or two. Maybe the odd chocolate for Valentine’s Day. Oh, and my friend Satch makes the most amazing cherry pie, so I’ll definitely be having a slice of that.”
“Well, you’ve earned some sugar.” He lightly pats my lower back as he walks past me and I laugh, grabbing my towel and wiping down my face before following him to the cubbyholes along the far wall.
We’re currently standing in the basement of Davis’s large home.
He runs a private gym for people who don’t like an audience.
He does one-on-one sessions, a few small-group workouts, and that’s about it.
I’m so glad I found him. When I first joined the gym, I thought all the people who like to sneak photos of Zander Donohue’s wife would have the decency not to snap me working out at the gym and post it online. But nope. People are shit.
Some of the pics that surfaced were hideous, and the comments were even worse.
I try really hard not to let the fact that my husband is a famous NFL quarterback bother me, but sometimes it all gets too much. I didn’t ask to be put in the spotlight along with him. I don’t even get why people are interested in me!
Zander was super pissed on my behalf and quickly persuaded me to find a personal trainer who could come to our home and work with me in our pool house, which we converted into a gym.
But then I found Davis, and I kind of love that he has his own place.
There’s something more motivating about actually leaving my own house to do a workout.
“When do you guys head to Nolan?” he asks.
“As soon as I’ve showered up and washed this stink off my body.”
He sniffs the air, making a big show while I giggle and take a sip from my drink bottle.
“Nope, the air smells pretty good around here. Pretty sure your sweat smells like daisies.”
I laugh again and go to dig out my phone and keys but am stopped when he produces a red rose from behind the stack of neatly rolled towels.
“Or maybe you smell like a rose.”
I blink at the flower when he holds it out to me, wondering why I’m not smiling and reaching for it. There’s this pinching in my gut that I don’t understand.
Forcing a grin, I let out a soft snicker. “Uh… what’s this?”
“It’s a rose.” His broad smile softens. “For Valentine’s Day.”
My laugh is a little awkward as I try to decide whether to take it or not. I don’t want to be rude, but…
“That’s really sweet.” I glance up, our eyes connecting for a brief moment before I scratch behind my ear and explain, “But I already have a valentine. He’s waiting for me at home.
” I don’t know why I’m not just taking the flower and thanking him.
He’s probably giving a rose to all of his clients today.
It’s just that… something in his gaze is feeling kind of off, and instinct is telling me to reject this gesture.
Why am I feeling this way?
“Aw, come on.” Davis shifts, resting his hands on the cubby on either side of my head and boxing me in.
My guts twists, this time with a sharp pull, and my eyes dart past him, hyperaware for the first time ever that I am completely alone in this gym with him.
His wife works in an office downtown, and he has this place to himself every day. Well, himself and whoever he’s got working out down here.
Alone.
Boxed in against these cubbies of his.
I swallow, wishing this wasn’t happening.
I love Davis.
I love our banter. And sure, it might be mildly flirty sometimes, but I’m happily married, and so is he, dammit!
With another thick swallow, I lean my head back until it hits the wood behind me. “You should give that to your wife. I’m sure she’d love it.”
“I’ll give her one too.” He leans in a little closer. So close I can feel his warm breath fanning across my skin.
Shit, shit, shit!
Get out of here! instinct yells at me.
“But I wanted you to have one.” His smile gets all soft and squishy as he skims his finger down the side of my cheek. “I wanted you to know how special you are.”
“You’re married,” I squeak, leaning away from his touch.
“They wouldn’t have to know,” he whispers, cupping my chin and moving like a snake. Before I can even flinch, his mouth is covering mine.
My lips part in surprise, which is horrifying because he takes the chance to skim the tip of his tongue along mine, and no, no, no!
His lips, his mouth, his tongue are foreign and shocking, and what the actual fuck!
Shoving him away with as much force as I can, I wipe my mouth with a disgusted frown.
He takes a step back, like he’s surprised by my reaction, his expression crumpling with confusion.
Seriously?
He doesn’t get why I shoved him away?
I gape at him, incredulous, as my stomach trembles… writhes.
Spinning around, I gather my stuff, yanking it out of the cubbyhole. My fingers are shaking so much I drop my car keys. Snatching them up, I grip them so hard they start to dig into my palm. It hurts, but I cling tight, turning back to glare at him.
“Shit, Sen… I’m sorry.” He sighs, looking anything but apologetic. “I thought we had something here, and I just… It’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow, and I… I couldn’t help myself.”
My nostrils flare when I clench my jaw and deepen my scowl.
“I thought maybe you felt… We get on so great, you know? I love working with you.”
“Yeah, I loved working with you too,” I stiffly admit. “But now you’ve gone and ruined it.” I point at myself. “I am in love with my husband. And even if I wasn’t, I’m fucking married, which makes me unavailable! And you’re married, which makes you a filthy cheater!”
“I—”
“No!” I hold up my finger to shut him up. “You made a planned pass at me, and that tells me everything I need to know about you.” My eyes start to burn, my throat swelling as I quickly spit out the rest. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“I’m sorry. Seriously. I’m sorry.” Okay, now there’s a small flash of regret. “I won’t make another move on you again. I promise. I know where we stand now, and on Monday, we’ll—”
“There is no we anymore,” I spit. “Come Monday, I won’t fucking be here!”
Racing for the door before he can touch me again, I ignore his cries of “Sienna! Don’t go! I’m sorry! We can fix this!”
Yeah, not fucking likely!
I burst out of his house and sprint to my car, pausing by the driver’s door to shake myself off. I was in such a rush that I haven’t even put my coat on, and it’s freezing out here. But I don’t want to pause in case he chases after me. I’ll just blast the heat as soon as the engine’s started.
Locking myself inside, I fire up my car and squeal away from Davis’s home, not stopping until I’m forced to slow down for a red light.
I grip the wheel and…
Let out a feral scream.
It’s a guttural sound that rises right out of my belly.
I feel… violated.
Sure, it was just one kiss, but I didn’t want that guy touching my lips.
Shit, Davis! You dick!
I’m gutted.
Training with him was such a highlight each day. It was killing those “alone at home” blues, motivating me, pumping me up.
And now he’s gone and snatched that away.
Sure, I can find another trainer.
But I can’t go back to his private little gym again.
Shit!
Closing my eyes, I rest my head back against the seat and let them burn until tears build behind my lids. The second my eyes pop open, a few spill free, and I let them fall.
I know I can find a new gym, a new trainer… all that stuff.
But for some reason, I feel like I’ve been thrown right back into that horrible place I was before I started working out.
And now I’ve got the added weight of having some man I didn’t want kissing me plant his lips on mine.
I felt the tip of his tongue in my mouth—ew!
Scrubbing my lips again, I jolt when a horn blasts behind me. Whoops. The light’s green. Accelerating through the intersection, I wonder how the hell I’m supposed to go home right now.
Zander will take one look at me and know something’s up.
I’ll tell him. Of course I will.
But he’ll be so pissed. Not at me. At Davis. And even though there’s something kind of sexy about his indignant rage when someone’s wronged me, I don’t know if I’m in the right frame of mind to deal with any of it right now.
I just want to crawl into a hole and feel sorry for myself.
I hate that I want to do that, but I do.
So instead of turning right down the next street, I go left and head for the park.
I need a walk.