The Trainer

by Shey Stahl

  I turned around to look at him. “Yes, water please.”

  He moved around me to the stainless steel fridge and retrieved two bottles of water and handed me one. I got a peek in his fridge and it was a lot like his house. Empty.

  I got the cap off and took a drink. I loved cold water, it was so refreshing. But it also might have something to do with me needing something to occupy myself because Destry was without a shirt now.

  I told myself not to look. I did repeatedly. But none of that shit worked.

  Then again, I didn’t want to appear too obvious so I did that trick where I held the water bottle out in front of me and zoned past it.

  Destry caught on because who the hell really looks at a water bottle?

  Well, I would, but this time I wasn’t.

  What did he do?

  Destry isn’t the type of guy to pop off with a cheesy line or even say anything for that matter. There was a small hint of a smile, but nothing notable. He watched me, let his eyes drift south to the curves of my body. Then he raised his arm and pointed behind me. “Bathroom’s that way. Towels are under the sink.”

  I couldn’t stay there staring at him so I took off down the hall which wasn’t a hall at all. It was like a cutout in the living room, two doors. A bedroom and a bathroom.

  After closing the door behind me, I set my water on the counter and stared at myself in the mirror. I looked like crap. My face was all flushed, hair matted and tossed up into a messy ponytail. As I stared at myself, I was both concerned but strangely satisfied that my arms and stomach already felt a little tighter. It’s only been two weeks. Was that even possible?

  Well, with Destry, it seemed that way. Look at his body.

  I’d just gotten my clothes off and bath running when I decided to snoop through his medicine cabinet.

  Seemed appropriate. Who wouldn’t go through a man’s medicine cabinet? All in the name of research.

  I bet Stella did. I stood there for a brief moment, my bare feet on cold tile while I decided if going through his personal belongings was an invasion of privacy. It most certainly was but I’d already crossed the privacy line when I so openly watched him in the shower.

  I was a little nervous but when I opened it, there was barely anything in there but tooth paste, a toothbrush, contact lens cleaner, deodorant, clippers and what looked to be a prescription. I picked the bottle up and read the label.

  Vicodin.

  Destry J. Stone

  Take every 4-6 hours as needed for pain.

  Hmm. Interesting.

  He didn’t have much to look at so I decided to get in the tub. It felt so strange to be in some man’s apartment, naked, in his tub. Like I couldn’t relax enough to enjoy it.

  Just when I started to relax slightly, Destry walked in, still with no shirt on and carrying a bucket.

  “Destry, oh my God!” I tried to cover myself but really, he saw it all before I had time. And he looked. Bluntly. Like he’d planned that.

  “Ice water is best for sore muscles.”

  “Are you shitting me right now? I’m naked.”

  He shrugged and dumped the bucket in my bath. “So what? You saw me naked on Monday, in the shower, yes?”

  Oh my fuck! He knew I was watching him!

  My mouth gaped open, not only from that damn ice but also that I was caught. How embarrassing. I could feel the rush of warmth to my cheeks. And elsewhere. Destry had that presence about him.

  I thought maybe he would dump the ice in and then leave. Walks away a lot. But no, the fucker sat down on the toilet beside the tub.

  “Are you for real?” I cupped my boobs with my palms and crossed my legs. “What are you doing?”

  He tapped the side of the tub with his index finger. “You said your leg was hurting. Let me see it.”

  “What? No. Get out.”

  “Oh come on, I’m not looking.” He laughed, actually laughed. Slowly he lowered his gaze and stared at my stomach and hips. “Okay, well now I am, but let me see your leg.” There’s a certain amount of authority in his voice that I couldn’t ignore.

  I tried though. “No.”

  “It’s only fair, Tallan. Don’t you think?”

  I didn’t say anything. My body was literally shaking again. He’d caught me watching him and he didn’t say anything? Who does that?

  “Nothing to say?” He asked.

  When I was about to scream, he picked up the bucket and dropped the ice cubes in the tub and smiled.

  “What?” I jumped at the shock of the ice. “No. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I hope you enjoyed the view.” His eyes crinkled at the corners when he grinned. “Care to give me a view now?”

  “Are you serious? I can’t tell with you?”

  His hand reached inside the ice water and retrieved a handful of ice. “I don’t joke around often. So what do you think?”

  Taking it in the palm of his hand, he then placed it over my calf. I shivered, but not from the ice when he trailed a finger down my left leg. Destry was touching my bare leg. And he was massaging my leg. Again.

  Would it be weird if I grabbed his hand and shoved it between my legs?

  Yeah, don’t do that. You’ll scare him away.

  I closed my eyes as he massaged my leg. I ached to be touched higher. I wanted him to touch me there. I wanted good sex. I wanted it so bad it was becoming all I thought about. I felt like a teenage boy. The thing was, a week ago I wanted that with Silas and I was ready to jump at the opportunity. Now, well my pussy had made a friend and she wanted a play date.

  I felt like I needed to brace myself, so I did. I moved my hands to the edge of the tub.

  That left me bare and exposed from the waist up.

  Destry, meet my boobs. Give them a tit shake if you’d like.

  He let out a long breath and unconsciously, it seemed, moved his hand higher than necessary.

  “You can go higher.” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat from the nerves and the increasing throbbing pleasure his touch was causing me.

  His eyes flickered to mine, dark and stayed on mine. “If I do… I won’t stop.”

  “Then don’t stop.”

  His chest was heaving and he eyed me, and then scooted back about a foot from me. He ran his hands through his hair making it stand up on end. Then he stood wiping his hands on the towel on the counter. With his eyes on mine, he reached inside his shorts and adjusted himself. In front of me.

  Sweet. Fucking. Jesus.

  He winked when I noticed. “Hungry?”

  “I… uh… what?”

  “For food.” He laughed quietly, amused with himself. “Are you hungry for food?”

  I made this squeak sound when I sighed sinking down in the tub. “Yes. Since I met you I’m always hungry. Food would be good.”

  What was I doing? I hired a guy to get me into shape and here I am two weeks into it and I’m writing an article about him, watching him naked in the shower and now letting him watch me naked, massage my leg with ice cubes, and telling him to touch me higher.

  What the fuck?

  When a boxer is knocked down face first on to the canvas. In the old days they would say his face was in the resin of the canvas.

  That night in his apartment after I got out of the tub, we sat around his living room eating carb filled Chinese food. As weird as it sounded, I felt like it was changing the dynamic of our relationship.

  Everything he said made me wonder what the fuck he was talking about. I would latch onto certain words and then spend the entire night trying to decipher them and they’re meaning. Annoyed the hell out of me. I would wonder if they were meant for me or if they were about someone else.

  The thing was, the more time I spent around him, the more research I did, the more I wanted to help him. The more I wanted to know about him.

  Then I hated him more because he was invading my brain. I didn’t want to think about him like this. My goal here was Silas, my ex who I was trying to get back.
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  Why was he even affecting me at all?

  Why did I care if he was nice or not?

  I was a woman on a mission.

  I shouldn’t want the answer. I shouldn’t care at all. He was just a personal trainer and this was the article. I blamed Marcus. I blamed Jared. Really anyone but myself at that point.

  You know when I started caring was when Marcus put the story in my head and made me believe I could make a difference in Destry’s life. I could change the public perception of what they perceived as Destry lost the fight or threw the fight. For once someone could make a difference for him instead of using him. It was when Marcus presented the idea that I had to get to know him. I was researching him and then I was convinced that there was so much more to the man behind the harsh image that he so desperately wanted people to believe was really him. When it wasn’t at all. There was a side with so much passion that it was damn near blinding to be around him. It was almost as if nothing you did or said was as good as what he could be, if he let himself. He was most definitely holding back.

  It was nearing seven Monday night when I got to the bar. Destry wasn’t down there yet so I waited for him when my phone rang. The number wasn’t one I recognized but maybe it was Destry calling. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Tallan.” A man’s voice rang through, one that I recognized but couldn’t place.

  “Hey?” I said, a little unsure and then it dawned on me that it was Silas. My heart started pounding in my chest. “Silas?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. So… still on for the concert in a few weeks?” His words seemed rushed, commotion all around him. “I’m back in the states now but I just wanted to check.”

  I laughed lightly, then noticed Destry approach carrying his bag and a sweatshirt. Immediately I wanted off the phone. I didn’t want Destry to see me so vulnerable and Silas caused that. Destry had shown me in the past few weeks how strong I could be and having him witness this conversation wiped all that to shit.

  Destry stopped and leaned into the brick wall staring at his phone. “Did you think I forgot?”

  “No.” Silas said, his breathing and words evening out. “But I was worried that maybe you would call it off. It’s a lot for me to ask and I don’t deserve it. I could understand if you didn’t want to see me again after what went down after high school.”

  Ya think?

  I didn’t say anything in response because, in reality, there’s some truth to that. I was also so damn nervous with Destry standing this close. Anything I said he could hear and would most certainly judge me without saying a word, the look he’d give me would be humiliating enough.

  “But I want to see you.”

  I sighed, turning my body away from Destry and into the wall. “Why?”

  Noticing I was attempting to gain some privacy, he shrugged and tossed his bag to the ground. He didn’t care who I was talking to.

  “I’m just going through some shit and it’d be a nice to hang with a familiar face.”

  “Of course, I can’t wait to see you and catch up.” Speaking in such low tones, I’m not entirely sure he even heard me with all of the commotion and background noise on his end but Destry certainly heard. It was so quiet in here I might has well have been moaning like a whore in church talking to him.

  Right then I felt bad for Silas, mostly because I couldn’t imagine the lifestyle he now had. Different city every night and your closest family and friends never by your side. You can only live that life for so long. Deep down he had to have known the lifestyle he chose would result in isolation. It always does.

  Silas said he’d call in a week or so and make sure I got the ticket.

  When I hung up, Destry dropped his bag from his shoulder and looked up at me. “I’m curious, what do you see in that guy?”

  “What guy?” I shrugged. He was so good at it I figured I would try my hand at it now.

  He almost seemed amused at my response. Almost. He was still waiting for an answer and I was beginning to understand when Destry wanted an answer, he got one.

  “You mean Silas Cade?” I put my hands on my hips.

  Destry’s eyes traveled south taking in my body. I pulled at my dark gray t-shirt trying to make sure it wasn’t clinging to my body. When I thought about it, Destry made no attempt to hide his attraction today or any other day based on the usual once over he always managed to give me. Attraction. Or maybe he wasn’t even attracted to me. Maybe he was horny. I watched his eyes, staring at my lips. Yeah, that was it.

  The thing was, I didn’t miss the fact that he was looking at least. I blushed, to which he winked.

  Oh my God, was he flirting?

  No way. Guys like Destry don’t flirt. They don’t need to.

  But then he spoke and I wanted to punch him because his mouth ruined everything.

  “You’re stupid for going. I can tell you that right now. He’s not looking to talk.”

  Back to douche mode.

  “You don’t know a damn thing about Silas.” I said defensively, starting to get pissed at everyone and their comments. Did they really think I was that dumb? “So what if he wants me. Who are you to fucking judge me for that? Not everyone fucks around with every girl who spreads her goddamn legs. Maybe I want that for once.” I resaid my statement in my head and realized it didn’t make a lot of sense.

  “Not everyone fucks around with every girl that spreads her goddamn legs.”

  What?

  It was his turn to get defensive, and he did. “Are you saying that’s me?” He stepped forward, kind of like he did with Stella when she challenged him.

  “Sure looks that way given the girl who walked in here the other day.” I backed up to create distance between us, my back pressing into the cool brick wall.

  “Who are you to fucking judge me?” He stepped back and raised his hands. “I had one girlfriend. One. I was with her for two goddamn years. I’ve fucked five girls my entire life. Five.” He shook his head, anger evident in the stare that pinned me to the wall, made me feel guilty for assuming. “Fuck you for thinking otherwise.”

  Not only did I strike a nerve, but it wasn’t lost on me that Destry was a good guy and all this time I’d been thinking he was some kind of man whore. Never assume apparently.

  I suppose he had every right to be pissed off, but so did I.

  “I’m sorry. I’m just tired of everyone judging me. I want to do this and I don’t want to be talked out of it.” I looked down at my hands, and then at Destry.

  He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, just stared down at me. He was literally driving me mad. I wanted to know what he was thinking right then so freaking bad. There was a thick silence between us, almost awkward and standing that close to him made me anxious, nervous even.

  “Fair enough.” He winked, though it seemed forced, and motioned toward the weights, his body relaxing but still tense. “Let’s start with lunges.”

  Lunges weren’t my favorite and he knew it. He was punishing me.

  After lunges we did fucking sixty second planks. Who the hell dreams up this shit? We did full on planks, side planks, and if Destry could have figured out a way, I’m sure he would have made me twist into a pretzel to do planks.

  He corrected my form many times, had to touch me every time, in every place to make sure my plank form was straight as the proverbial plank would be. He watched me jump rope and then sat behind me counting as I did squats with a bar.

  I did the same circuit type training as last week when he was showing me some squats. Apparently my form was off. “You’re still not doing it right,” he said, standing up.

  Nudging my thighs apart with his hips pressed forward so he was right against my ass, I sighed. Openly sighed. I couldn’t take much more of this touching with him. He’d been doing it all day. It was so different from every other day. Normally he kept his distance and now look at him, touching, showing, interacting. Not when I was so frustrated, stressed out, and horny.

  His face was near my ear as he
said, “Good form is as important as exercise and hydration. Bend your knees and keep breathing.”

  I did and then it happened. My ass slid down his dick. Slid all down that, all in his business.

  And. AND. He was hard.

  I turned my head immediately and stared at him.

  He winked.

  The way that wink made me feel right then should have been illegal. He wasn’t supposed to be making me feel these things right now. He was a trainer. I was a girl looking to get in shape and meeting my long lost love in a few weeks. I didn’t need to be getting turned on by winks, his smart ass remarks, and his hard on. I needed to hate him.

  Destry tensed behind me when my back arched on instinct. Give me a hard dick and I’m gonna treat it like a stripper pole all greased up and ready just for me. I basically grinded into his dick. No shame in my game at all. His hands flew to my hips, his lips at my ear. “Wanna get a drink with me?”

  “With you?” I asked, turning around to face him. “Like right now?”

  He looked down, his eyes on my lips, then searching my eyes and breathing heavy. “Yes. With me. We’re done for the day.”

  I swallowed, as if I hadn’t drank water in days and Destry was like a desert mirage I needed to get to and taste. “Okay…”

  I think there’s a point in your life when you know something is changing. You feel it when the decision is made. That was right then for me. Torn between all the reasons that had brought me to Destry, I was at a crossroads.

  Silas. Destry.

  Destry was here, now. Silas was a rock star who, for all I knew wanted me for just one night and then would leave me just like he did after high school, to pursue his dreams that didn’t include me. How had this man standing before me caused me to doubt the very thing I was working so hard for?

  But I knew what that one drink meant. With me, it was the point of no return. Decisions made with the assistance of liquid courage were never a good idea.

  “How’d you meet him?”

  I laughed as Destry and I sat at the bar together. It was a Monday night, a handful of bar patrons filled the tables all watching the Mariners game. And here he was, asking questions about Silas again. “I thought you didn’t care?”