Priest (A Standalone Bad Boy Romance Love Story) (46 page)

“I’d have to reserve judgment on that one
until I saw one of your bouts,” I told him. I didn’t like fighting. It made me
sick to my stomach to watch two men pummel away at each other. I was about to
say something else, but when I looked up all thought other than what I saw
directly in front of me was completely gone from my brain.

For a second I was sure that I was
imagining him. He was looking right at me, watching me, I think. I’d never seen
anything or anyone quite like him. He was literally beautiful. He was tall,
probably at least six three or four with closely shaved dark hair and the
sexiest pale blue eyes I’d ever seen. He didn’t have a shirt on, which was
probably the cause of my cotton mouth. I tried to tell myself that it wasn’t as
if I’d never seen a half-naked man before. I see them every day, all day long
at work. I work with them, next to them, I train them, and I even touch them…a
lot. But this guy was different. He looked like he’d been sculpted out of clay
and then painted by an artist. He was lightly covered with sweat from working
out and it glistened across the colors of the tattoos that ran across his
muscular chest and disappeared over one shoulder. I suddenly realized that the
entire time I was thinking about how hot he was, he hadn’t taken his eyes off
me. Of course that also meant that I’d been staring at him. Slightly
unprofessional I was sure. He had to be wondering why someone who was obviously
gainfully employed looked like a homeless person with her wrinkly clothes and
uncombed hair. I had to force myself to return my attention to my client. He
finished his four way holds and I said,

“Okay, onto glutes.”

He winked at me and said, “You just like
looking at my ass, don’t you?”

I rolled my eyes and said, “Maybe if you
did more squats like I tell you to, you’d have an ass to be looked at.”

Mark wasn’t offended, he laughed. He was also
a guy who knew how nice-looking he was and no amount of teasing from me would
change that. We moved over to a different mat and I handed him a long thick
band.
 

“Hip thrust,” I told him.

 
He
curled his lip but he took the band and wrapped it under his butt like he was
going to sit on it. I counted as he did his reps. We did ten the last time we
conditioned so that day we increased them to twelve. Mark was in great shape
and this was an easy exercise for him. It was like squats, only he’d be using the
band instead of weights. We didn’t use weights during conditioning; he’d have
his weight training tomorrow. I looked over at the guy with the tattoos again.
He had his back to me now and I saw that his tattoos ran down the back of one
arm and across the top of his back. Both legs were tatted up too, and speaking
of glutes…damn! Mark could take a few pointers there.

“Hello?” I turned back and realized I’d
forgotten to give Mark his count.

“Sorry about that, I was thinking about a
bill I had to pay later on.” Mark glanced over to where I’d been looking and
said, “Yeah, okay. I’m paying you to look at my ass, not his.”

“Moving on, let’s work those abs.” We
moved over to the mat where the power wheel was already out. Mark got on his
knees and grabbed the handles on the wheel. As he rolled out and back in I
talked him through the proper technique for optimal effect.

“Okay, keep your hips, spine shoulders,
and head in a straight line.” He did a few more and I said, “Your back is going
to hurt doing it like that…do we have to go back to technique?” Mark didn’t
answer me, he was using his wind elsewhere, but I knew he heard me because his
body was as straight as a board now. Sometimes you had to talk to them like
they were children to get results.

We finished that exercise and on the way
to our next station Mark said, “Damn it! I left my water in the back in my
bag.”
 

“Don’t drink half of it on your way out
here. Remember, only sips.”

“Yes, Mother,” he mumbled good-naturedly
under his breath.

While I waited for him to get back, I
noticed hot guy looking at me again. I smiled and as he passed me on his way to
his next station I said a very polite, “Hi.”

Mr. Stoic didn’t even twitch a lip and
whatever he said in response to my “Hi” came out in an unintelligible mumble.
It figures, he’s way too pretty to have a personality too.

“Okay, got my water,” Mark said as he
walked back up. I looked at the bottle, it was half empty.

“Did you drink all of that between the
locker room and here?”

“No, it was only half full when I got
here.”

“You are such a liar,” I said.

“I can’t believe I pay you for this
abuse,” he said with a grin. “What’s next?”

“Upper back,” I told him. “We need to work
on getting rid of those rounded shoulders of yours.” He suddenly stood up straight
and tried to force his shoulders back. I ignored him and said, “On the mat.”

“Reverse crawl?” he asked, obviously
unenthused. “I hate this one.”

“You say that about every single one.”

“I know,” he said as he got on his knees
on the mat again. “I hate them all.” He began to crawl backwards. I’d found
that it was a really good exercise for strengthening the upper back and
shoulders as well as straightening out the spine. The benefit for a fighter was
that it added more power to their punch. They hated it because who really
looked cool crawling around on the floor…in reverse? I had to keep reminding
them that it was about what they’d look like later, in the ring or the cage or
on the field…wherever their prowess may be.

I made him do that for ten minutes and
after he got a drink of water, we moved on to his neck. I tossed him the
stability ball and he put his arms out and held it against the wall. Once it
was stable against the wall, he leaned forward slightly and pressed his
forehead into it. “Keep your feet stable,” I told him. He wiggled to adjust
them a bit and when he was in position he started his Isometric holds. He was
up to six seconds on the clock this week and as he worked, my stopwatch and I
counted for him. When he finished that one he told me,

“I think I hate that one most of all.”

I smiled because I knew he was just trying
to get me riled up now, telling me he hated every one of my choices for
strength training. It wasn’t going to work, I was a slave driver and Mark knew
it. I wasn’t even sure why he tried.

“Well, it’s good that we have it out of
the way, then,” I told him. “We’re onto grip training.”

“You know, I don’t really “grip” anyone.
I’m more of a throw the punch and step back kind of guy.”

“A strong grip helps you hit harder.”

“I don’t see the correlation,” he said.

“Seriously? Or are you just being a
butthead?”

“A little of both,” he said.
 

With a sigh I said, “Grip strength is a
game changer, trust me.” He rolled his eyes like he didn’t believe that was a
satisfactory answer, but he walked up to the rope and took hold of it. “Okay,
lean back,” I told him, and then, “Walk your hands down, now up…keep your feet
flat.” He did that for a few reps and then I said, “Okay, pull-ups.”

“Shit!” It was said under his breath, but
loud enough for me to hear. Again, I smiled. Mark grasped the rope above his
head so his arms were fully extended. I counted for him as he pulled up, held
for three seconds, rested for one and repeated for twelve reps.

When he finished I said, “Get some water
and chalk your hands.”

“You’re gonna make me climb it?” he
whined.

“Yep.”

He whined again. While he was getting his
water I searched the gym again for hot guy. He was in the back now talking to
my coworker and one of my supervisors, Sam. They shook hands and I stood
mesmerized as hot guy pulled on his tank top, every muscle in his back and arms
rippled as he did. Then he threw his towel up on his shoulder and his bag on
the other arm and headed for the front door. I tried to pretend that I wasn’t
watching, but he wasn’t that subtle. He was staring at me again over his
shoulder and he didn’t look away. Geez! I can count at least five people in the
room that look worse than me. I wonder why he’s singling me out.

“Are we done?” I heard Mark’s voice behind
me. I turned to him and smiled.

“Not even close,” I told him.

CHAPTER
TWO

After I finished up with the three clients
I had scheduled for that day, I helped Sam with his. He was the one who hired
me and he was awesome. I never worked with him and not learn something new.
After his last client left, Sam, Debbie, and I cleaned up. We wiped down all
the machines and emptied the trash cans into the big metal one out front. I
cleaned up in the locker rooms and showers, holding my nose against the stinky
boy smell in the men’s. Debbie cleaned the glass up front and wiped down the
counters. She was the front desk girl and Sam’s girlfriend. We were almost
finished when Sam got a phone call. I heard him say, “Hell yeah, I can use a
beer.”

After he hung up he said, “Jeff and
Victoria and Greg are over at Sunset Sports Café watching the game. You girls
want to go over with me for a bit?” Greg owned the gym where we worked and
Victoria and Jeff were two of our other coworkers who had the day off that day.

“Sure, as long as you’re going to feed me
while we’re there; I’m starving,” Debbie told him.

“I don’t think so, thanks. I’m just such a
mess…” I couldn’t imagine going out looking the way I did; it was bad enough
that I’d worn dirty clothes to work.

“Oh come on, you look fine,” Sam said. He
was a big liar. He probably couldn’t even describe what I was wearing that day.

“Yeah, even when you claim to be a mess I
have a hard time not hating you for being gorgeous,” Debbie said. It was a nice
compliment and I appreciated it, but I didn’t believe her either. I just felt
so disheveled. But, I really did want to hang out with my friends for a while
so I said,

“All right, you guys go on. I’m going to
just freshen up a little bit and see if I can do something with this hair. I’ll
lock up here and meet you there.”

They took off and I went in the back,
hoping I’d accidentally left some clean clothes in my locker. I wasn’t that
lucky of course. I found a pair of jeans and a green T-shirt that I’d left
crumpled at the bottom. I took them out and smelled them. They were wrinkled
too of course, but they didn’t smell too bad. I showered off really quickly and
dressed in the jeans and T-shirt. Then I flipped my head over again and ran my
fingers through my wet hair. The only time in my life when I was glad for the
naturally curly hair that I usually had to spend hours taming was when I was in
a hurry. I found a half-f bottle of hair gel in my locker and put some on my
hands and rubbed it through. That would at least keep it from drying in a ball
of frizz. I had a compact in my purse and I put a little of the foundation on
my pale face and some mascara on the pale red lashes that framed my green eyes.
I looked at myself and made a face. My clothes were still dirty, so no matter
what I did really, I wasn’t going to feel good about myself. I put on a little
bit of lip gloss and decided I’d just stop in for a quick drink and head home.
Maybe I could get home in time to run to the laundromat that night.

When I got to the sports bar, my friends were
easy to find. They’d claimed a big table in the corner. I went over to join
them and to my hormones delight I saw that hot guy was here. He was wearing
clean clothes and damn if he didn’t wear them well. He and Sam were at the bar
talking. I sat down with the others and gave the waitress my order. She brought
me my drink and I leaned over to Debbie and said,

“Who is that guy that Sam is talking to?”

“Seriously? How does a girl who is so into
fitness for athletes never seem to know when she sees one?” I shrugged. I was
very interested in physical fitness. The actual game they played in after I got
them fit…not so much.

“Is he a football player?” I asked.

She laughed. “No.” She was going to make
me guess. I thought about his nice round butt and said,

“Baseball?”

She laughed. “No. His name’s Paul Delport.
He’s an MMA fighter…one of the best around. Haven’t you ever watched any of his
You Tube videos at least?”

“Maybe, I thought he looked familiar…” I
lied. I never watched You Tube videos of the fights. Mark was always trying to
get me to watch his and I always declined. Debbie knew I was lying and she
laughed and picked up one of the fries on the plate in front of her.

“You did not think he looked familiar,”
she said. “You thought he looked hot.”

I looked back over at him. I didn’t think
I could lie about that. It wasn’t like she’d believe me anyways. “Yeah, that’s
true too,” I said. “It is hard not to notice.”

Debbie laughed again and said, “Have Sam
introduce you. I think he’s single.”

“And out of my league,” I said.

“Please! It’s hard to imagine why you
can’t see yourself the way the rest of us do. You’re freakin’ gorgeous!”