Bear
A low growl rips out of me as I thrust the barbell up again, chest puffing, lips flat as I force myself to keep breathing through the reps.
Seven.
Eight.
My muscles quake in protest, but I grit through the pain, willing my mental capability to be stronger than my physical as I thrust the bar up again.
Nine.
“Come on, one more,” Giselle says, standing over me with her fingertips under the bar like she could actually help me if I needed it.
She’s a buck thirty soaking wet, and I’m benching two-hundred-and-fifty pounds.
With all the effort I have left, I grunt and shove the bar away from my chest, hooking it on the rack as soon as I’ve extended my elbows to get the full lift.
A few guys around the gym murmur various encouragements to me as I sit up, mopping my forehead with my towel. They say damn, bro and nice and yes, sir as Giselle walks around the bench to face me, holding up her hand for a high five with a proud grin on her face.
I slap her hand. “Why are you looking at me like you’re the trainer?”
“For that little show, I was.”
I try to smile, but it comes up short. I haven’t had a full smile since Thanksgiving, since before I found out Gavin was back in town and Erin was talking to him.
And that she didn’t tell me.
The fact that she left town right after to go on Ashlei’s bachelorette didn’t help. She’s texted me a few times checking in, but I know she’s hanging with her sisters and I don’t want her to be glued to her phone.
I just wish she hadn’t left after a fight like that.
Planting weight onto my feet, I push off from where I’m seated on the bench and over to the barbell in front of the mirror. I start loading it up, preparing for a heavy deadlift when Giselle touches my shoulder.
“Hey, don’t you think we’ve pushed it hard enough for today?”
I shake my head without looking at her. “I need the release.”
“Well, what you don’t need is an injury.”
“I’m fine.”
“Maybe so,” she says, stepping in front of me to block me from putting more weight on the bar. “But as your boss, I’m calling it.”
“You’re not my boss,” I say, arching a brow.
“Your superior, whatever.” She waves her hand, and then when her arms fold over her chest again, she frowns. “Come on. Let’s hit the sauna. You can sweat it out.”
I hang my hands on my hips, body aching and so tired I know the possibility of injuring myself is actually higher than I want to admit.
“Sauna,” Giselle says, snapping her fingers in front of my face. “Now.”
I sigh, but relent, tossing my towel over my shoulder and cleaning up our space before I let her lead the way.
The gym is quiet for a Saturday evening, likely because most people are still spending time with their families. I’m thankful Giselle was down for a training session. I needed to get out of my house, out of my head.
We both sigh in relief when we take a seat on the warm wood in the sauna, the dark room already soothing us — body and soul.
Hot rocks cook in the middle of the room, steam rising all around us, and we nod to the only other two people in with us — two girls who look fresh off a swim in the lap pool.
“God, I’m going to be so sore tomorrow,” Giselle groans, leaning back to balance her elbows on the wood behind her. She rolls her shoulders, hissing. “I know leg day is the worst, but upper body day sucks, too.”
The corner of my mouth lifts. “I loved it.”
“Yeah, well, you’re a masochist,” she says, eyeing me for a second before her attention is back on the rocks. “Besides, sounds like you were blowing off some steam. There’s always more energy when you’re pissed off.”
I clench my jaw, but don’t reply.
“What’s going on?” Giselle asks.
The swimmers must think we want privacy, because they give us a little nod and smile before they see themselves out, and then it’s just the two of us.
I sigh. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Come on. Maybe I can help. Besides, I’m nosy and the workplace drama has been unfortunately dry lately. Give me something.”
I shake my head on another fake smile. “It’s nothing, really. Just… Erin and I got into a little disagreement before she left for her trip.”
“Uh-oh. What’d you do?”
I actually chuckle at that. “Overreact, most likely. I don’t know. Her ex is back in town, and he goes to therapy with her, and they’ve been talking. I saw a text come through from him and I just… I lost it.”
“She didn’t tell you he was back?”
I shake my head, and Giselle whistles, massaging the side of her neck for a moment.
“Well, I’d be upset, too.”
“They’re just friends,” I say with confidence — which is funny, considering I didn’t want to hear it when Erin told me that same thing.
“Friends, with an ex?” She shakes her head. “I don’t know if that’s possible.”
“With them, I think it is. They have a complicated relationship, one that’s tied up in a lot more than just romance.” I frown. “I think he’s been an important part of her recovery.”
“Recovery?”
That makes my throat go dry, and I shake my head.
“It’s not my story to tell. Just… I guess what I’m saying is that talking to you about it now, I realize I trust her, and I’m not threatened by him.
But I certainly didn’t act that way originally.
And she said some things, some true things, but still… they stung.”
“Like?”
“Like calling me out on the fact that I have a lot of family shit in my life that I’ve never properly dealt with, that I laugh at her going to therapy when in reality I probably need it, too.”
“This is your therapy,” Giselle says simply, and when I turn to look at her, it’s with a gaze of wonder.
Because she just nailed what I have been trying to tell Erin forever, I just never knew how.
“I mean, you come here to be silent, to sit with your thoughts, to work through frustrations. And from what you’ve told me, it’s always been this way, yeah?”
I nod. “Yes.”
She shrugs. “Not everyone has to talk about what’s happened to them. Sometimes, we handle trauma by working through it physically, overcoming it the same way we overcome a challenge in the gym.”
I watch her for longer than appropriate.
“What?” she asks on a smile.
“I just… yes. That’s exactly it.”
She looks at her nails before polishing them on her sports bra. “I know. I’m good.”
I smirk, relaxing a little bit and digesting her words as silence falls between us. After a long while, Giselle clears her throat, wiping at a bead of sweat rolling down her neck.
“You know,” she says softly, tentatively. “There are other ways to find that release you need.”
My heart halts in my chest.
“I could help,” she continues, and to my absolute horror, she scoots a little closer, angles her body toward mine, and touches my knee with one hand.
Her eyes find mine, and where I hope she can read the warning in my gaze, I find only heat and lust in hers as she slides her hand up my thigh, higher and higher. “No one would have to know.”
“Giselle…”
Her smile turns wicked when I say her name, and unabashedly, she runs her hand up even more, wrapping around my cock before I can stop her.
I jerk away quickly, grabbing her wrist with more force than necessary and keeping hold of it as she giggles and bites her lip.
“You want to take control?” she asks. “I like that.”
“Giselle,” I say again, this time more firm. “This is inappropriate.”
Her smile wanes, and she blinks a few times before ripping her arm out of my grasp. “Oh, calm down. It’s not that serious.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s just a little fun. And trust me — you’re in need of it.”
“I have a girlfriend.”
“And I went to bat for you so you could have an extra-long weekend to take said girlfriend home to Pittsburgh, remember?” she challenges, arching a brow at me.
“Erin is out of town. She also doesn’t know me and never has to find out.
” Her gaze falls to my lap. “And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re hard as fucking tungsten right now. ”
“I would never cheat on her,” I clip. “I would never hurt her like that. And if you’re implying that I somehow owe you for what you did for me, then you should have explained those terms before you assumed I’d agree to them.”
Giselle scoffs, her little mouth falling open as she shakes her head and watches me with narrowing eyes. She closes her lips together, rolls them, and then, like she was under some sort of spell, all the anger disappears. She smiles, genuine and calm, and stands up.
“No worries, it was just a miscommunication.” She throws her towel over her shoulder before grabbing her gym bag from the floor. “I’m going to shower and head out. See you Monday?”
She doesn’t wait for me to answer before she leaves me alone in the sauna, and as soon as she does, I bark out a curse, elbows coming to my knees as I dig the heels of my hands into my eyeballs.
The heat soaks into my skin.
And along with it — the most severe doubt I’ve ever felt in my life.
Every ounce of trust I had for Giselle has been vanquished. What if she didn’t mean what she said about me starting my own business, about me having the chops to have my own company? Was she just spitting that nonsense to try to get close to me?
To try to fuck me?
I grimace, cursing again as I kick back in my seat.
And Erin…
What if she meant what she said to me in the spring, that she didn’t have anything to give me? Did I push her? Did I ask too much?
What if she rushed into this because she felt like she had to?
What if she’s not ready?
I swallow, thinking of how I acted when I saw that text, the jealous rage that consumed me.
What if I’m not ready?
Thought after thought pummels me like fists to a speed bag, and I take every blow harder than the last until I can’t take it any longer. My fists ball, legs quake, lungs seize up as they try to calm me with fresh air.
But it’s no use.
I might be able to work out my physical frustrations, but there’s no escaping this hell that lives inside my head.
I grab my duffle bag and sling it over my shoulder, shoving through the sauna doors and barreling out of the gym.
And I drive straight to the office.