AllFreeNovel
Share Us
How inappropriate.
But at just the moment I opened my mouth to awkwardly retract my words, he broke into a very satisfied grin and rolled with it. “Trust me, she was.”
My mouth fell open when he followed it all with a wink.
“I…” I shook my head, baffled before blurting, “I can’t believe you just admitted that.”
He shrugged, only to counter with, “Hey, you brought it up, which I can’t believe.” Then he cocked his head to the side and squinted as if probing my mind. “Why did you say that?”
“Um…” Not sure how to answer, I rubbed the back of my neck uneasily while my face burned hot. Then I totally evaded, too scared to explore the reasons myself. “You ready to run or do you need to stretch first?”
He watched me steadily for another long, uncomfortable moment, seeing more than I wanted him to. Then he waved me on, letting me off easy without forcing the subject. “I’m good to go,” he said. “So lead the way, dirty-minded girl.”
I rolled my eyes but broke into a run, feeling more like I was trying to escape the moment than actually exercise.
He kept pace with me easily as we started down the trail, sticking by my side, not lagging behind or rushing ahead, and I found myself glancing sideways at my life coach, taking him in from head to toe.
About my age, with thick dark hair, he wore black jogging shorts, loose around the waist that slipped low on his hips whene
ver he exercised and a gray, V-neck T-shirt that was just snug enough to reveal he was packed with muscle. It was nothing fancy, except he made it look stylish by the way he wore it.
Mind wandering on, I tried to visualize what his girlfriend must be like. He didn’t mention her a lot, but when he did, I could tell he was wholly into her, which was sweet, but also made me think she had to be something fairly striking.
As gorgeous and personable as he was, he could be as picky as he liked, so she was probably pretty athletic herself, I deduced. Self-assured, beautiful, intuitive but also practical and level-headed. I bet she was a female version of him. Yeah, definitely a female him. There was just something overwhelmingly spectacular about him.
When Parker had first been assigned to me by the agency, I’d initially asked for a different coach. He’d been too attractive, too virile, too male for my taste. That was exactly what I didn’t want because it had immediately intimidated me and made me feel distinctly distressed. But no one else had been available, so we’d been stuck together unless I’d wanted to lose all the down payment I’d sunk into getting help—or rather, the down payment I’d begged my parents for help with. But I hated asking for monetary assistance from them, so it seemed even more important for me to put that down payment to good use.
So…
I’d suffered through the initial discomfort, and a year later, I couldn’t think of anyone else better to guide me through my issues than Parker.
Honestly, the man had become the best friend I had.
Without talking, we made a lap along the trail around the sports complex and then entered through a side door, finding our room reserved as it always was. My Saturday morning sessions with him always included a quick circle around the grounds to warm up and then a one-on-one game of basketball.
We hadn’t initially planned on making my sessions revolve so heavily around physical activity, but as soon as he realized what my true problem was, he’d tailored everything until I was exposed to as much body-to-body contact with someone as I could handle.
I’d had to cut the first hour of basketball short because I’d broken out in a cold sweat and started to have a panic attack when Parker had gotten within two feet of me. But now, all these months later, I could actually bump against him during the game without even pausing.
It was progress.
That’s what he claimed, anyway.
I knew I still had a long way to go.
“You warmed up and ready for another half hour of loss?” he asked with his usual wickedly taunting grin as he tossed the ball at me to begin on offense.
Today, I felt ready.
Without waiting for him to get into a defensive position, I dove forward, dribbling hard for the basket and making him scramble to dodge in front of me. But just as soon as he did, I pulled back and performed a jump shot, scoring two points in the first three seconds of play.
“Yep,” I told him as the ball ate nothing but net. “I’m ready.” Then I pointed at him. “For your loss.”
His mouth fell open as his gaze followed the path of the ball. Then he turned back to me slowly, his eyebrows lifting.
“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be, is it?” Then he smiled wide, ready to take on the challenge. “In that case…” He pulled up his phone and started some music.
When “What’s Up, Danger” by Blackway and Black Caviar poured through the speakers, he retrieved the ball, and announced, “Now, let’s really play.”
