Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“What do you mean?”
I paused. “I always feel like I’m just managing to tread water in life, but when you’re with me, things feel effortless.”
“Wow,” Evan said. “That’s… so much more sincere than I was expecting you to be. Thank you, Mitch.”
“You don’t expect me to be sincere?” I joked.
He smiled softly, propping one arm underneath his head. “I enjoy it when you are.”
“I wish you were just around all the time to show me how to do things right,” I said. “All I know is how to be a personal trainer. You’d probably be a better bartender than me.”
“Bullshit. It’s a tougher job than people realize.”
“That’s what Grace and Red told me. But I didn’t really understand until tonight. You’re not just serving drinks, you’re… making people’s nights better. You’re a conversationalist. You have to keep a million tasks going at all times. You have to do mental math. It’s so much.”
“Sounds like being a teacher,” Evan said. “Except with a lot more alcohol.”
“Can I be honest?” I said.
Evan stared blankly at me. “I never understand that question. Can I be honest. Do people expect me to say ‘No, actually, I would prefer a lie?”
“You make a good point.”
He gave me a little shove. “Yes. Be honest, please. What were you going to say?”
I breathed deep. “To be honest, I already miss being able to just tell people how to move their bodies as a full-time job.”
“You miss being a personal trainer?” Evan asked.
“I do. I loved my job back in Chicago.”
“Do you hate bartending so far?”
“Hell no,” I said. “I’m loving it, even if it is chaotic. But… even though there are no big gyms here, I’ve had a couple of people ask this week if I’d do weekly training sessions with them.”
“No way,” Evan said, his eyes lighting up.
I nodded. “One of them is Melody Mayhew, who is ninety-three and really wants me to come over and show her how to do aerobics in her pool, but I’m happy to have a client, nonetheless.”
Evan shifted, and I felt his knees knock against mine. “You could train me, if you wanted to.”
My eyes widened and I shifted onto my side, facing him completely. The whole mattress wiggled, making a divot in the center that sort of forced our bodies closer together.
“You’d really want to do that?” I asked, already loving the pocket of warmth forming between the two of us.
He took a deep breath. “I think it would be intensely embarrassing, because I’m pretty sure I’m at least thirty times weaker than you are, but… sure. I would try. I want to get better at moving my body.”
“I can definitely show you how to move your body,” I said. I was already getting excited at the prospect of training Evan.
“Thank God Red isn’t around to make a joke about that.”
“Fuck,” I muttered. “I never know when I’m setting myself up for sex puns.”
“You can be sure that if you mention bodies or inches, you’re setting yourself up for them,” Evan said.
I reached out and dragged my hand along his arms. “I don’t think it’ll take very long at all to get some lean bulk on you,” I said. I could already feel that Evan had some good musculature to him—he wasn’t as weak as he claimed—but I felt the potential for more.
“Your fingers are cold,” Evan said, but his voice was quiet, not confrontational.
“I’m sorry about that,” I said, but I didn’t remove my hand from his skin. “They’ll warm up.”
I let my fingers wander to his chest.
“Obviously I need to work on my pecs, too,” Evan said, and I felt him pull in a shuddering breath.
“You do realize that you’re perfect the way you are, right?”
“Oh, please, Mitch.”
“You are,” I said, running my fingers along his skin. “Working out is good for anyone, but you’re great already.”
My heart rate was starting to ratchet up, and I hoped that Evan couldn’t feel it beating like a damn hummingbird.
“I’m not a big slab of hard muscle like you are,” he said. I saw his eyes flicker downward.
“You don’t need to be a slab of muscle to be hot as hell,” I said softly. “And you know that you are.”
As I was lightly tracing my fingertips on his skin, I accidentally brushed over his nipple, and he gasped gently. I pretended not to notice, stroking downward toward his ribcage, then back up again.
“Jesus,” he murmured.
His gasp had very quickly led to my dick getting hard under my boxer briefs. There wasn’t much space between my body and Evan’s, and if I moved just a little closer, I might accidentally press up against him with my erection.
But I kind of didn’t care right now.
“What did you want to talk to me about tonight?” I asked, the question suddenly feeling urgent.
“Nothing,” he said very quickly.