by Julia Derek
“Wow. Now I really need to see this guy. He must be super hot. You should take a photo of him with your phone next time you see him. So you’re gonna keep training with him then?”
“Yeah. He’s a good trainer and so nice, which counts for a lot in my book. I’m hoping I’ll get used to him and then he won’t affect me so much. I’m honestly very surprised this happened today since he’s not really my type. But it’s just something about him that turns me on…” I shook my head to get the sexy thoughts out of my mind. It sort of worked. “Anyway, how are you doing? Tired?”
Nina had entered her fifth month of pregnancy and it was really beginning to show now.
“No, I’m good. I think I felt him kicking this morning…” I could tell that she was smiling.
I sucked in a breath. “ No… Really? That’s great!” Now I was smiling, too.
Unlike me, who was a total baby person, Nina had never been one to dream about either getting married or having babies. Before she met Dylan, a corporate lawyer who could double as an Abercrombie & Fitch model, he was so All-American handsome, she’d been the ultimate single gal. Their crazy intense romance had sure turned both their worlds’ upside down, and often it had looked like it wouldn’t work out between them, but, in the end, it had, primarily because Dylan had been determined to make it work. They had now been together for six months, the last four totally dreamy for both of them. And for me and Nixon, too, actually, as their roller coaster romance had stressed us out being her best friends almost as much as it had Nina.
“Or it could be the breakfast burrito I ate,” Nina said in a dry voice. “I don’t think it agreed with me. My stomach’s been making funny sounds for hours now.”
“No, for sure it was the baby!” I said, so excited for Nina and myself, too, since I was going to be the little boy’s godmother. I couldn’t wait to hold him. “Did you guys settle on a name yet?”
“No, we’re still arguing about it. But I think I’ll get my way in the end, so count on Brando. You know how Dylan can’t resist pleasing me.”
She was right about that; I didn’t think I’d ever seen a guy as in love with a girl as Dylan was with Nina. I hoped I would have the same luck with the guy I married. Unlike Nina, I’d always wanted to get married. Also, the name Brando carried a special significance for both Nina and Dylan. If it hadn’t been for Detective Brando, the two of them might never have started dating again. Thank God for him.
“He sure can’t,” I said. “Baby Brando… I’m loving it!”
“And I’m loving that you had a good session with… what’s his name again?”
“Dante.” My skin tingled as I pronounced the name and once again my pulse started to race. Even faster this time and I found myself biting my lip at the thought of Dante’s hands on my body. I sighed. This was ridiculous. My crush on this guy was definitely not going away, quite the opposite. Maybe I’d better switch trainers after all. But firing Dante would be unfair considering how nice and supportive he’d been. What should I do?
“That’s a cool name,” Nina said.
“Yeah, I know. Hey, I think I have a problem.”
“You do? What’s that?”
“I’m realizing my crush on Dante”—electricity made the hair on my arms stand up—“oh, God, I can’t even say his name without getting all goose-bumpy…” I took a deep breath in an attempt to calm the butterflies that had suddenly appeared in my stomach. “It’s obviously worse than I thought. I felt back to normal when we started talking babies, but the second you mentioned him again, I’m feeling all love drunk again. Like bad love drunk. What the heck should I do? I’m in serious trouble. It can’t be good to have the hots for your trainer, right?”
“You just need to get laid, Ricki. That’s all this is. It was ages ago since you even made out with a guy. If Aidan hadn’t turned out to be so screwed up and you guys had sex, this guy touching you wouldn’t have nearly as much of an effect on you. Like you just said, you’ll get used to him. And even if you don’t, I think it’s only positive.” She inhaled. “Think about it. Not only will you be looking forward to your sessions, but you’ll work harder to show him you’re serious about getting in shape. You know, to impress him. At least this is the way I think I’d be if I had the hots for my trainer.” She giggled mischievously, which made me laugh, too. I could definitely imagine my pretty actress friend doing everything she could to impress her hot trainer. She was a total alpha female.
“Yeah, I guess it’s only positive,” I said. “I should stop worrying so much.”
“Yes, you should. You’ll see how it’ll all end up great.”
I hoped she was right. Well, I was definitely looking forward to my next session with Dante and I was even more serious about getting in shape than when I’d first decided to get a trainer, so maybe she was. I smiled big. “Oh, I can’t wait to see him again…”
“Just don’t forget he’s your trainer and not some guy you just started dating,” Nina said.
The smile on my face shrank. “Uh, yeah. Why would I confuse the two?”
“Because you’re in a vulnerable place right now after what happened with Aidan and good trainers know how to make their clients feel good. If a hottie like Dante gives you a lot of attention, you might fall in love with him for real feeling the way you do about him already. Not to say that the two of you couldn’t start dating, but for now it’s smart to remember he’s your trainer only.”
Even though there was nothing strange about the words Nina had just said—in fact, she was correct—they still managed to kill all the feelings of well-being floating around inside me. Well, it was good that she’d said them since it did give me a much needed reality check. I did have a weakness for guys who were sweet and attentive to me, that’s for sure. Aidan might not have been big on cuddling, but he’d been very sweet up until the day he dumped me. Which was why I’d fallen so hard for him. And except for that first time we met, Dante was very sweet.
Nina and I spoke for another couple of minutes before disconnecting.
The next morning I was so sore it hurt to bend down to pick something up from the floor or to climb stairs. But instead of being annoyed, I liked the dull pain that flashed through my legs each time I bent them. It made me feel like I was alive and well on my way to being the fittest I’d ever been in my life. Hopefully, if I took a bath with some Epsom salt in it like Dante had suggested, I’d feel better. It had to help because I was so not cancelling my session with him tomorrow. I had to remember to pick up a bag of the salt after work.
I was still sore when I was leaving the office several hours later, but at least it wasn’t getting worse. Feeling like an old lady, I struggled out of my car and was grateful I lived on the bottom floor in my apartment building. As soon as I was inside my apartment, I headed for the bathroom where I turned on the faucets in the bathtub.
Twenty minutes later, I was submerged in hot water. I reached for my phone to text my younger sister to remind her it was our mom’s birthday on Saturday. She always forgot and then blamed me for not reminding her. Apparently, only because I happened to be someone who remembered everyone’s birthdays, I was somehow responsible for her not forgetting any important ones.
As I was about to start texting, I discovered I’d gotten a text.
From Dante, who’d sent it several minutes ago. The pouring bath water must have drowned the sound of the incoming text.
My heart pounding, I clicked on the text to open it.
How’s your body feeling today, Ricki?
I knew very well what he’d meant by that text and that it was completely innocent. Still, thoughts suggesting far more intimate scenarios than the two of us just having trained together began swirling through my mind. The thought of him straddling me as he’d stretched me yesterday sent tendrils of electricity up the insides of my thighs and heat pooled at the pit of my stomach. I imagined him suddenly bending forward and kissing me, pressing his bulging groin against my erotic center. His ha
nds pulling down my workout top and setting my breasts free, he licking them, sucking my nipples, telling me how hot he found me, how he’d been dreaming of me, how he couldn’t resist me. Soon, my hand found its way between my legs and I brought myself to release, all the while pretending it was Dante’s hand doing it for me.
Dante
When I strode into the Whiskey, I found Jose on one of the stools at the bar as usual. His face no longer looked like a human punching bag and his body had healed enough for us to train hard finally. We’d lost a lot of time, so I’d taught him moves he could practice on his own whenever he got the chance. Jaime, my client and the owner of the Whiskey, had given Jose permission to come and work out in the basement cellar on his own. In order to survive the jump out, Jose had better practice as often as he could. I was struggling to find the time to train him lately, so he was likely to be on his own more often now. I’d barely been able to make it tonight because of my packed schedule.
“Hey man,” I said and we exchanged a quick man hug. “Everything good?”
“Yeah, can’t complain,” he said and got to his feet. We headed to the basement gym. “What about you? You look beat, man.”
I yawned. “Yeah, I’ve felt more rested, but it’s all good. All good.” In truth, I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d be able to keep up the tempo I was living. I trained between ten and twelve clients a day every day, up from the six I used to do five days a week at Crunch. Nowadays I had little time left over for much else, not to mention sleep. I rarely even got six hours. And I’d been forced to give up my outside clients. I kept telling myself that I was young and that I could take it. I had no choice but to take it. I couldn’t let Jose die, nor did I want to end up in prison.
“You want me to get you some snow to get you through the day?” Jose asked as we entered the gym. Snow was the gang’s code word for cocaine.
I looked at him with a raised brow. “You kiddin’ me, man? You know I don’t do that shit.” I peered at him closely. “And I hope you haven’t started, either.”
Jose chuckled goodheartedly. “No, I haven’t, but I have to admit that sometimes I’m tempted to do it. I see so much shit these days, I have a hard time dealing with it. Maybe if I’m high, it won’t bother me so much.”
I grabbed his collar and pulled his face close to mine. “You’ve gotta suck it up, man. You know what’ll happen if you start that shit. You’ll lose focus and then you’ll never get out.”
Jose was way too sensitive, the kind of guy who’d make a great writer or some other type of artist, prone to anxiety attacks. It had been a while since his last one now, fortunately. He’d joined the gang because he’d been lonely, desperately searching for a place to call home, where he belonged, after having lost his family when they ran across the border. I was still amazed how someone like him had survived the Devils’ brutal initiation, even if they had gone easier on him since he’d only been ten at the time. Having become a member myself months earlier, I was grateful that I hadn’t been forced to participate. I had been too new.
They sure hadn’t gone easy on me the day of my initiation. Then again, I’d been thirteen.
The process of leaving the gang depended on the current boss. Nacho, being the boss at the moment, gave the person who wanted out two choices—either you took a three-minute beating by four guys who used their fists, feet and clubs to demolish you, or you fought six who used no weapons and you were allowed to fight back, for five minutes. Neither of the options was good and few survived them. Apart from myself, who’d chosen the second, I was only aware of one other guy who’d come out alive. But I was determined to make Jose the third.
My phone beeped as I was waiting for Jose to switch into training gear. I pulled it out of my pocket to check who it was from.
My lips curled into a little smile when I saw Ricki’s name on my screen and the smile got even wider when I saw what she had texted me:
I was kinda sore earlier, but now that I’m in a hot bath with Epsom salt, I’m already feeling much better:)
I felt a lot better too, after having received this text. The image of a naked Ricki lying in a hot tub expanded in my mind and my body was instantly recharged, the tiredness gone.
I typed a quick response back: I’m glad to hear you took my advice and that you’re feeling better. My fingers were itching to add, I wish I could join you, but I stopped them before they could do something I knew I’d regret. Instead, I typed a more neutral, Look forward to seeing you again tomorrow.
My phone buzzed with a response: Can’t wait:)
I grinned big and tucked away my phone at the same time as Jose returned in his workout gear.
“What’s with the stupid grin, man?” he asked and took me in. “You screwing one of your clients?”
Hot rage shot through me and once more I grabbed Jose by his T-shirt collar, but this time I pressed him up against the basement wall. Leaning so close I was only an inch from his face, I hissed, “Don’t ever say anything like that again. Me oyes?”
“Yeah…” Jose managed to get out, looking like he had a hard time breathing. Which wasn’t surprising since I was bigger than him and leaning against him with all my body weight. I realized what I was doing and let go of him. He coughed a couple times and smoothed his T-shirt.
He eyed me carefully. “Sorry, man. I was just kiddin’…”
The anger defused almost as soon as it had come over me. Why did I get so pissed? I knew he had been kidding, hadn’t I? But all I said was, “It’s okay. Just don’t talk about me screwing my clients again.”
Especially not one client in particular.
When I got home later and crashed into bed in my one-bedroom apartment, I pulled out my phone and found Ricki’s texts. I’d been thinking about her from the moment I mounted my Harley outside the Whiskey and rode to my house.
I read our last exchanges a couple of times before I made myself stop and put it away. I needed to stop thinking about this chick. Not only didn’t I have time to date anyone, but even if I did, I wouldn’t let myself. After what had happened with Lara, I would never again allow myself to get into something serious with a chick. Only short flings, very short flings, ones that lasted one night preferably. With women I didn’t care about.
I was still having nightmares about how Lara had looked at me when I held her bleeding head in my lap, her dark eyes still full of terror.
“I’m so sorry, Lara,” I had cried, stroking her head. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you. Oh, why did you have to follow me? Why didn’t you believe me? I would never lie to you.”
“It’s okay…” she responded weakly. She tried to smile. “At least I know you were not with someone else. Makes me happy. I just wanted to know I was the only one for you.”
Those had been her last words and I had never gotten over them.
Ricki
“So the soreness is gone?” Dante asked, looking at me like he didn’t quite believe me. It was Thursday and five thirty, time for our second session. Well, third, depending on how you counted.
I nodded and smiled at him. “Yup. That Epsom salt must have really worked.”
I was a little sore still, but I didn’t want Dante to go easy on me today because of it. I had decided that I wasn’t about to waste another day not doing everything I could to get in the best shape of my life. I had already lost two pounds, which I attributed to the fact that I’d mostly eaten fruits and veggies in the last couple of days. Not that it had been hard to eat less and better than normal; all I needed to do was think about Dante, and suddenly the bad types of foods I usually craved didn’t seem that appetizing any longer. So far, it seemed having the hots for my trainer was only positive, just like Nina had said. I wasn’t even feeling shaky with nerves like the last time we trained. Yes, I definitely worried far too much about stuff.
“Well, hey, that’s great,” he said with a sideways little grin. “And your ankle feels okay, too?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.”
<
br /> “Sounds good. Let’s get started then.” We walked over to a corner where no other people were working out and Dante had me do squats while holding my hands again. I surprised him by doing twenty instead of the fifteen squats he’d asked for.
“Wow,” he said, raising his brows. “Someone must’ve gotten a lot of sleep, huh?”
“I did sleep pretty well,” I said. “What are we doing now?”
He had me do some seated rows, followed by some pushups on a nearby mat. He told me to flip over on my back so I could do some crunches while he held my feet down. After I’d done thirty, I needed to take a short break to catch my breath. I eyed his tattooed arms.
“Did it hurt having those done?” I asked him.
He glanced down at his arms and I thought he seemed distracted. “Not too bad,” he replied after some time.
“They’re very intricate. The artist who did them must’ve been very skilled.”
Dante nodded slowly. “Yeah, he should be. He has a lot of practice.”
“My friend is a trainer and has lots of tattoos like you. I know he’s always looking for good tattoo artists. How can he find yours?”
“My guy doesn’t really do tattoos for the general public. Only for his friends when he feels like it.” Dante extended me a hand to help me to my feet. “But he’s not the kind of guy you wanna be friends with, so unfortunately I can’t make an introduction.” He looked away as he added, “I honestly wish I’d never befriended him myself.”
“Oh.” What’s that supposed to mean?
We went to the TRX straps where Dante had me do more exercises. I was still wondering what he could have meant with that last comment, but I didn’t think asking about it was a good idea. Dante didn’t seem like he wanted to talk about it anyway.
In between exercises, I had some water from my water bottle. Then I asked Dante if he was from L.A. originally.