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I try to ignore the disappointment that swells in me when I realize I won’t be in his group. Instead, I focus on the man to his right and have the slightest relief that I can focus on a practice without the stupid fog of an inappropriate crush. Nor do I acknowledge the flare of annoyance when he walks to the other group without another glance at me.
Scott walks over to the handful of us, a warm smile stretched across his tan skin. He looks like a Ken doll, with this slicked back blonde cut and pastel blue polo shirt and white shorts.
“Good morning, ladies. I’m going to go over a few exercises and then we’re going to rotate through as a group, okay? Don’t be afraid to ask questions. I would rather teach you as often as you need instead of you getting injured.”
“What are you doing?”
My fingers tighten on the bar before I place it on the rack and I glance at him through the mirror in front of me. “Squatting with weights?”
Fallon’s scowl deepens, and he steps behind me. His foot kicks at mine, tapping the inner sole of my shoe. “Widen your stance. They should be wider than your shoulders.”
I look down at my feet, scooting them apart. When his fingers grip my hips, twisting them straight, my head snaps up. My breath catches, trying to keep my heartbeat steady as he keeps one hand in place while the other skims up my back.
“You need to keep your posture straight. Power through with your hips, not your knees. You’re bending too far forward every time.”
My face burns as I struggle to comprehend his instructions while he’s touching me. His fingers glide to my stomach, and we lock eyes through the mirror.
“Squeeze your glutes and flex your abdomen as you squat. Do it now.”
I blink, slowly processing what he’s saying. “Do what?”
“Flex your abs.”
Inhaling, I harden my stomach, but Fallon shakes his head. His hand drags up to my sternum and I’m thankful for my black sports bra hiding the pointed tips of my breasts.
“When you engage your core, this shouldn’t be expanding and your shoulders shouldn’t be moving back. Take a breath through your stomach.”
I lick my lips, looking up at him again. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Fallon steps closer and I can feel the heat of his chest on my back. His fingers trail down and back to my navel. “When you go to flex, imagine pulling your stomach down towards your belly button. It doesn’t have to be a big breath, you’ll be more inclined to expand your chest if it is.”
My skin is on fire, an inferno at every swipe of his fingers. It’s making me sweat in all the wrong places and I have to suppress the urge to rub my thighs together. He is just my coach and correcting my form, but why does it feel like more than that? Like he couldn’t lift his hands if he tried. Or maybe it’s all my dream, a crush that never seems to die, like a buried ember just waiting for the fuel.
“Good. Now grab the bar, I think I saw you leaning it on your wrists.” He moves behind me, far enough away so I can squat and not brush against him. The coldness from the loss of his touch is jarring and I blink for a second before nodding.
My knuckles are white from gripping the textured metal so hard. I avoid looking in the mirror as I squat, feeling his eyes on me the entire time. It’s dumb to think he’s doing anything but observing to ensure I’m following the form he instructed me to take, but a flush spreads through my chest and face anyway.
“Good,” Fallon praises. “Again.”
I bite my lip, cursing the heat that races through me at his words. There’s nothing to them but professional encouragement, but they twist in my head.
He’s just my coach.
He’s just my coach.
He’s just my coach.
“Watch yourself,” Fallon says, and I catch his eyes in the mirror before looking down at my hips. I need him to go helpanother one of the girls so I can catch my breath. His presence is overwhelming me and embarrassment is rendering me silent.
“I think I got it,” I say, not bothering to look at him as I continue to squat slowly. I only have a few more left before I’m going to rest for a few minutes.
Fallon lingers for a moment before clearing his throat. “I was surprised to see you have had no weight training previously.”
I put the bar on the rack again, turning to face him as the condescension in his tone kindles a different fire inside me. “Why’s that?”
His stormy green eyes narrow as he takes in my stance. “It’s astonishing what you’ve accomplished. Imagine what you can achieve with proper guidance.”
Exhaling out my irritation, I step away from the equipment, my heart jumping when he doesn’t move and my crossed arms brush his chest. “Well, not all of us were blessed to be put into private clubs from the age of five.”
