Look After Me (13 page)

I look at him in surprise. “What are you saying?”

“I’m offering you a job. It’s only part time and not nearly as exciting as protecting our country, but you have the kind of endurance that inspires people. Since you joined, the usual slackers have been working their asses off. It’s pretty funny to watch actually. Their jealousy kicks in, along with a hit of testosterone, and you’ve got yourselves a pissing contest. And let’s face it, that’s the kind of attitude you want. It’s not exactly orthodox, but it gets their blood pumping. So what do you say?”

I gape at him a little shell-shocked.
Did he just offer me a job?
I clear my throat. “Just to make sure I’m not hearing things, you’re offering me a job as a personal trainer?”

He nods with a smile. “Yeah.”

Holy shit.
“I don’t understand. I’m not even qualified.”

“Like hell you’re not. I’ve seen the way you push yourself. You can workout for four maybe five hours straight and barely look like you’ve broken out a sweat. Plus you’re military, so you’ve endured what I can only imagine is the most brutal workout known to man. You’re probably more qualified than me, and that’s saying something,” he says with an arrogant chuckle. “So you in?”

I never anticipated being offered a job just by simply working out. Do I want to be a personal trainer? I’m here more often than not, and working out is almost as natural as breathing to me. The gym is the only place I really feel at home, especially since I’ve come out of rehab. Being able to work in the only place where I’m able to find some level of serenity would be perfect. I have nothing to lose. I don’t know why I hadn’t have thought of it sooner. It’s kind of genius.

“Um, yeah, absolutely. That would be amazing. Do you need me to come in and interview?”

“You already have, man. When can you start?”

“Straight away, I guess.”

“Awesome. Well, report to me on Monday at zero nine hundred hours and we’ll get started.” He smirks. “Congrats.” He claps his burly hand on my back, and I almost lose my balance. This guy really is the definition of muscle. I laugh at his use of military time but desperately hope it isn’t going to become a regular thing because that will wear thin pretty quickly.

“Thanks, Jake. I won’t let you down.” He smiles then walks away, winking at an attractive woman as he passes. He’s definitely a player, that’s for sure. Shaking my head with a smile, I make my way into the direction of the changing rooms. Once I’ve showered and changed, I can hardly contain my excitement and text Addison, not wanting to wait until tomorrow to tell her.

Me:
Guess who got himself a job?

As I’m exiting the building, I hear a text message ding. I pull my phone out of my jeans pocket and laugh.

Addison:
Did Katy Perry
finally succumb to your pestering?

Addison:
Only joking. Seriously though, that’s awesome! Where? We need to celebrate.

My heart does a weird jolt at the mention of celebrating. Celebrations usually mean doing something fun, and doing something fun equals Addison actually wanting to spend time with me out of our allocated time slots. I actually like the sound of that. Plus it’s been a long time since I’ve done anything remotely fun, so doing something fun . . . well, it sounds like fun.

Me:
What did you have in mind?

Addison:
Pizza.

Later that evening when I’m sitting through a marathon of
Breaking Bad,
I hear a knock at the door. When I open the door, I’m greeted by a smiling Addison with a pizza box and a six-pack of beer balancing on the top of it.

“Pizza?”

“Pizza.” She smiles.

I let her in. “So this is how you celebrate?”

She turns to me with another smile as I shut the door. “I celebrate everything with pizza. Pizza is amazing.”

“Well, it’s a good job I haven’t had dinner yet then. Funnily enough, I’ve sort of been craving pizza ever since I received a text message saying ‘pizza’ from this crazy woman today.” I wink, causing Addison to laugh. “So good call on the pizza. I’ll grab some plates. How did you get inside the building, by the way?” I ask as I make my way towards the kitchen.

“Oh, some guy was leaving as I approached the entrance. He let me in. Where do you want to eat?” Addison asks.

“Well, since I don’t really trust you in my kitchen anymore, we’ll eat on the sofa.”

She barks out a laugh, which makes me laugh. “I’d be totally offended if I hadn’t almost demolished your kitchen.”

I grab two plates and sit beside Addison on the sofa. I hand her a plate, and she grabs a piece of pizza. Feeling more thirsty than hungry, I grab myself a beer. I haven’t had a beer in a while, but I finally feel that I’m in a place now where I can drink one or two beers without the need to drown my sorrows in the stuff. Moderation is the key.

I hand one to Addison. “Beer?”

She gulps down her food. “Thanks.” She pauses for a moment as she places the plate on her knee and twists the bottle cap off her beer. She holds her bottle up with a smile.

“To new jobs,” she says with a huge smile.

“To new jobs,” I repeat as we clink our bottles together before taking a swig. Anticipating a delightful taste of alcohol, I’m a little disappointed when all I can taste is piss.

Addison laughs a little. “Usually I have a beer with my pizza, but I didn’t think it would be appropriate to bring actual beer to my client’s home, one who’s trying to keep sober, so I got the next best thing.” I glance down at the bottle and that’s when I read ‘NON-ALCOHOLIC’ in huge letters.

“I should have known it was too good to be true,” I groan, chuckling under my breath.

“It tastes just the same as normal beer,” she says, trying to reason with me. It’s like somebody telling you soy meat is just as good as regular meat. It’s just fucking wrong.

“Bullshit. For it to taste like beer, it has to be
beer.
”

“Honestly, it isn’t that bad.” She takes a sip to test her theory. I watch with amusement as she tries to conceal her obvious distaste by covering her mouth with her hand. Eventually, after a few seconds of pure torture, she lets out a moan. “Ugh, you’re right. That is awful.” She practically throws the beer at me. “Get that awful shit away from me.”

I burst out in laughter as I get up from my seat, intent on putting this so-called
beer
where it belongs—down the drain.

“How about a regular Coke that actually taste like a Coke?”

She nods. “Yes, please. Anything to get that horrible taste out of my mouth.” She grabs the remaining beers and shoves them in my arms. “Get rid of them. Get rid of them all.”

Once I’ve gotten rid of all traces of that god-awful beer, I grab two cans of Coke from the fridge and head back to Addison. She takes the can and without hesitation cracks it open and chugs at least half of it in one sip. Then she does the most unladylike thing and belches.

“Excuse me,” she giggles.

“You are a chick, right?” She smacks me against the shoulder with mocked annoyance as I cower away from the hit, smiling.

“I’m hardly trying to impress the Queen of England. Anyway I’m not going to justify myself. It’s just a natural digestive release caused by gas,” she says like she’s miss-know-it-all. It’s an endearing trait I like about her.

I reach over for a slice of pizza and take a bite. “I’d prefer you to be as relaxed as possible around me, but the moment you start farting, I’m gonna throw you out on your ass. I’m trying to enjoy my dinner, you know?”

She throws her head back as she laughs. “The same goes for you too, bud.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I wink before shoveling more pizza in my mouth.

She grabs another piece and takes small nibbles. “Okay, belching and farting aside, tell me about your new job.”

She sits crossed legged and faces me, her whole concentration solely on me. I tell her the story of how the personal trainer approached me while I was working out, and mentioned how impressed he was with my stamina and endurance, and how he offered me the job.

“He just offered you the job then and there? Just out of the blue?” she asks with surprise.

“Yeah, pretty much. I couldn’t believe my ears. But you’re now looking at the new personal trainer at Muscle Fitness.”

Her face beams with pride as she wraps her arms around me without a thought. “That’s incredible! I’m so proud of you.” I freeze on the spot as her incredible scent envelopes me like a warm blanket.

Fuck, she smells incredible, like vanilla and strawberries. Once I relax into her embrace, it takes every bit of willpower within me not to inhale the sweet aroma of her hair, but it’s hard when she smells so good. When she pulls away, she looks a little flushed from our physical contact and the way her face and neck flush with a pretty shade of pink almost has me hard in seconds.

I suddenly have an image of her on her back with me above her—fucking her wildly and watching as the vulnerable flush spreads along her neck, showing me just how turned on she is as she writhes and moans underneath me. I blink the thought away when I feel my jeans tightening. I quickly hide it with my plate, then shove some more pizza down my throat, silently willing my hard on to behave itself. I’ve not had this many spontaneous erections since I was fourteen, and quite frankly, they’re fucking embarrassing. I’m a grown ass man; I should have control over my own dick.

After an awkward moment, she asks, “So when do you start?” She takes another bite of her pizza and I shift in my seat, trying to use my plate to maneuver my dick into a more comfortable position until it decides it no longer wants to torment me.

“On Monday.”

“Wow, that’s quick. So what kind of things will you be doing?”

I shrug. “He didn’t really go into depth but I assume I’ll be training other gym members. Keeping them motivated, improve their strength, and enhancing their physical fitness.

“So you basically get to boss people around and kick them into shape?” She smiles.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Well, after all this pizza, I may need to hire you to kick my ass into shape,” she says with a smile before helping herself to another slice. How she keeps such a toned body with the way she chows down food like that, I have no idea. She’s totally different from Ava. Ava would eat one slice then claim she was full, so I’d end up eating the entire pizza myself. But Addison will probably eat the entire thing before I get to my second slice. It’s kind of a turn on actually, a girl with an appetite. I wonder if she’d be just as hungry if she were devouring my cock instead of the pizza.

Fuck.

Where the hell did that come from? My dick twitches at the very thought, and before an epic explosion detonates inside my jeans, I force my focus on something else. My mind briefly goes back to Ava, and that helps my cock deflate almost immediately, but now I’m left gasping for air as suffocation tightens around my lungs.

“You okay?” I hear Addison’s voice through the haze, and it takes me a moment to focus my attention back on her. Once my focus returns, I realize I’m pressing my fist against my sternum, trying to ease the pressure.

“Yep, I’ve just got a little indigestion.”

She looks at me skeptically, not buying my bullshit excuse. I forget how easily she can read me. “Did anybody ever tell you that you’re a crap liar?”

I roll my eyes. “You’ve caught me.”

She shifts closer until our legs are touching. Just having her in such close proximity eases the pain in my chest. My heart seems to flutter, and I’m unable to take my eyes off her.

“Tell me what just happened. One minute you were here, and the next you were somewhere else entirely.”

I rub my hand over my face, blowing out an exhale of air. “Ava.”

Addison’s face grimaces at the mention of Ava, but then her anger slowly fades to sadness.

“I can’t seem to go a day without thinking of her. I hate how she’s always there, fucking taunting me. I’d do anything to be able to forget.” I look away for a brief moment. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to zone out on you.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shake my head. “No, I just want to forget. Do you want to watch a movie?” I ask, turning a full one-eighty on the conversation.

She smiles. “Sure.” I grab the remote control from the coffee table and flick through the apps until I get to Netflix.

“Here,” I say, passing her the remote control, “I’ll let you choose. But no romance. I can’t deal with that shit right now.”

“Nothing romantic. Gotcha.”

After searching through the entire catalog, she finally settles on some film called
Magic Mike.
Just as the movie starts, I quickly use the bathroom before relaxing back on the sofa. After about twenty minutes, my eyes almost pop out of their sockets when a bunch of handsome motherfuckers with six packs you could crack glass with start stripping their goddamn clothes off. When I glance at Addison, she bursts out laughing.

“Are you fucking serious?” I ask, pointing to the screen where the guys are now removing even more clothes while a room full of girls scream like a bunch of horny teenagers.

“You said I could pick anything,” she points out through her laughter.