Chapter Four #2
“You don’t have to apologize for saying how you feel.
I won’t apologize for wearing your ass out either.
You ain’t getting away from me that easy.
You can talk shit; I just want you to be talking the same shit when I’m done with you.
” He bit his bottom lip, and it didn’t feel like he was talking about working out.
My pussy clenched, and I gritted my teeth and rolled my eyes.
I was such a hypocrite. Preaching about how unfazed by Cozart I was when I knew it wasn’t true.
That was why I wanted to stay away from him.
If I wasn’t near him, I could pretend that he didn’t make my pussy clench and my stomach fill with butterflies.
“Well, it sounds like y’all are about to have some fun.
Use the same meal plan I gave you for last week and on next week’s check-in I will give you a new one.
Make sure you increase your water intake because Co is going to have you sweating more than you ever have.
” My nutritionist cocked one eyebrow up and smirked as she stood to her feet.
She fixed her tight pencil skirt and looked over at Cozart seductively.
“I like a game of show and tell myself.” She licked her lips and winked at him as she walked out of the conference room.
I shook my head and looked up to the ceiling in annoyance.
I wanted to yell from the mountain top to her and all of the other desperate women in the gym that the man was MARRIED.
Just because he didn’t respect his wife enough not to flirt and sleep with other women didn’t mean that the women should ignore she existed.
“You got this NY’Airy. I’m proud of you and you have been working your ass off,” Layla stood to her feet and patted me on the shoulder.
“I don’t know about all that freaky show and tell stuff, but Cozart is the best. I’ve worked with him a few times and he’s going to get you right.
Just listen to his arrogant ass because he knows his shit,” Layla said as she nodded her head in my direction and walked out of the conference room behind my nutritionist.
We were alone as Cozart stared at me intensely.
I stood up from the chair and walked over to face him.
I didn’t know what he was thinking but I was sure it was shady.
He had beautiful, thin women throwing themselves all over him.
I was sure he didn’t think that I was attractive.
So, why the hell was he staring at me like a thirsty man looking at a large glass of water?
“I’m sorry again for what I said,” I avoided his gaze and looked down at my feet.
“I’m not,” he smirked and my heart skipped a beat.
“Let’s get you started on some stretches before we get into upper body.
Today we’re doing arms, tomorrow we will do legs.
Tonight, I need you to eat a large bowl of pasta and some lean beef because we are about to destroy your muscles and I need you to aid them in recovery,” he said casually as we walked out of the room.
I nodded my head in obedience, still being sure to avoid looking at him.
He led me over to the arm machines, and I brushed up against him accidentally as I sat facing the grip weight machine.
“I’m sorry,” I said as I looked away.
“If you don’t look me in my eyes when you tell me, it don’t count,” he laughed deep in a baritone that sent shivers down my spine. This was going to be a long week for me and I knew it.
Twenty minutes later, I was actively rethinking my entire life.
Why didn’t anybody tell me pushups felt like personal attacks, row backs with weights felt like betrayal, and overhead bench presses made my lungs feel like they were trying to claw their way out of my chest?
I was bent over, with my hands on my knees, trying not to die, while Co stood beside me, calm as ever.
“You’re doing amazing,” he said.
I couldn’t help that my mind went straight to the gutter and it sounded like he was talking me through it.
“I can’t feel my arms,” I whined.
“You’re not supposed to feel them, just know they’re there,” he retorted.
I snapped my head up, sweat rolled down my brow and dropped into my eye causing my eyes to burn.
“I am about to faint on purpose, and I want to see how that makes you feel,” I grunted.
He laughed loudly, that deep baritone laugh that I hated so much because it sounded so good. He grabbed a fresh white towel from a nearby rack and handed me my Stanley cup.
“Take a break,” he said.
Those words were music to my ears. I sat down and wiped the sweat from my face then drunk the water, like I had been in the desert for forty days and forty nights.
My nutritionist wasn’t lying; we were only on day one and Co had me sweating like a runaway slave at the bottom of a boat.
I wiped the sweat from my face and sat down allowing my arms to flail at my sides.
I had no idea how I was going to drive home my arms were so weak.
They felt like noodles attached to my body.
It hurt to lift them up to hold my water bottle.
My thirst for water was louder than the pain shooting through my arms, so I was forced to lift the Stanley and take another soul cleansing gulp. When I lowered the bottle, I noticed Co watching me. It looked like he was assessing me. Like he was studying me and he didn’t want to miss anything.
“You always stare at people like that?” I asked him quietly.