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“No, you’re fine. You can call me coach. Most of my clients just call me Audrey. I’m not a coach or anything, though. That makes me sound like some kind of weight loss coach, and you certainly don’t need that.” My eyes linger too long on his body. He’s wearing a black tank top and gray running shorts. The fabric of that tank top is already clinging to his body. What I wouldn’t give to trade places with it.
“I guess I don’t.” He watches me closely. “Do you do a lot of that?”
“Not really. I do some with the Beachbody platform because they have a dietary program I have to promote with each of my workout programs. But I really just preach moderation, you know? It’s easier on everyone. It’s hard for me to take on weight loss clients because I’m so busy training members of the North Caroline Courage, either as a team or individually. But I do consult when I’m asked to. It’s kind of a fine line I have to walk with Beachbody, so I do what they ask of me but never anything more.”
He nods in response to my rambling. I realize that I gave him more details than I needed to. I usually do that. Sometimes I can be a bit of nervous talker, and I guess this is one of those moments. Standing here in this kitchen with him isn’t something I haven’t done before during all those summers we spent together here as teens. It’s been a while, though, and maybe that’s why I ramble.
“So, what type of workout are we going to be doing today?” he asks. “Are you taking me on a run?”
I watch him for a second before answering. I’ve been contemplating that since I woke up this morning. I don’t want to run him again. We’ve already done that. “Let’s do some light cardio and then look at some core exercises and maybe some strength training.”
“I didn’t bring a weight bench.”
“I have core balls.”
“Oh, do you now?”
I laugh at the inflection of his words. I guess I made that sound a little dirty. “We can pass them and use them in place of weights. But first we’ve gotta stretch out. So, let’s get to it before it gets too terribly hot outside.
He agrees, following me outside to the deck and onto the sand. It’s going to be a beautiful day; the sun is shining warm and bright. The fluffy white clouds certainly won’t be providing any shade. I lead him through some stretches, and I can’t help but stare.
“How long are we holding this for?” he asks me, bringing me back to reality and not his body.
“Oh, sorry. Yeah, we can let go now. Let’s just kick one leg out and bend over as far as you can to touch the toes on that leg. Should give you a nice stretch in your hamstring,” I tell him.
Derek does what I tell him to, and I lead him through a few more stretches. He must think I’m a complete idiot with the way I keep stammering over my words as I watch his strong muscles move and flex.
Then we begin working through the routine I’m developing for my next shoot.
“You don’t seem so sure of yourself with some of these moves. Or am I making you nervous?”
“Well, I’m still working on this routine. This is something I have to head to LA to shoot in a bit. So, I’m not as familiar with the flow and the moves as I normally would be.”
He nods. “I’m like your guinea pig, then?”
“I guess so.”
“Nice. I like that I’m getting a sneak peek of all your moves.” He winks at me, and I blush yet again. I’m hoping I can blame all of this flushing on the fact that I’ve been working out.
We move on to crunches and sit-ups, and he adjusts so he’s sitting in front of me. “Here, I’ll hold your toes while you do your sit-ups.”
“You really don’t have to do that,” I say. “I can do them just fine.”
“I want to,” he replies.
He positions himself in front of me and holds onto my toes. I begin doing my sit-ups. Each time I crunch up, I end up looking him directly in the eyes. The heat of his stare is making we warm all over. I almost wish I had the courage to crunch up and kiss his lips. I wonder if he knows what he’s doing to me. I think he might and he’s just having fun with me.
We switch positions and I hold onto his toes while he sits up and down. I think about biting that lip whenever he comes near me. The images flashing through my head get more and more vivid as he keeps going, and suddenly, I let out a low moan. I want to cringe, hoping he didn’t hear me, but judging from the chuckle, it looks like he has.
“Getting a leg cramp?” he asks when he sits up again.
“Sure,” I stammer out. “Let’s move to the cool down.”
We begin stretching out our muscles again. I walk closer to the water to splash some water on my face. I need a cold shower based on the number of times I’ve envisioned myself biting Derek or licking his sweaty skin. I should get a medal for that.
I notice that Derek has joined me on the surf and is now doing the same thing. Wet Derek only adds more images to my fantasies.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” he asks.
