Page 25 of More To Us

"You don't have a trainer?" He cocks his head, confused.

I need to explain this. Otherwise he'll ask me more questions I don't want to answer.

"I'm not in official training mode anymore. It's a long shot I'll even compete again. That's why I'm going to college. It's my back-up plan. My parents think it's time for me to move on from gymnastics but I'm not quite ready to. I want to at least try to compete again."

"I could recommend some trainers here in Chicago, although the good ones are really expensive and I don't know if they have any experience working with gymnasts."

"That's okay. I don't really need one. I've done this long enough to know what I'm doing."

"I could train you," he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You're a trainer?"

"No, but one of the guys who works here asked if I'd consider it. I turned him down because I'm too busy working my construction job, but I've trained my older brother and now he's almost as ripped as I am."

I smile. "You think you're ripped?"

"Hell yeah." He lifts up his t-shirt, showing off an eight-pack. "You disagree?"

"No. I'd say you're ripped." I keep my eyes on his abs until he lowers his shirt. But then my eyes wander to his forearms, then his biceps. He's ripped everywhere I look. Tall and lean and pure muscle. Did I mention I have a thing for guys with muscles? Add in those blue eyes and that smile and it's no wonder I'm burning up inside.

"So what do you think?" he asks. "You want a trainer? I don't know anything about gymnastics, but I can set you up with a plan that will improve your strength or whatever other fitness goals you have. I can even give you a meal plan to follow."

"You know about nutrition?"

He nods. "What you put in your body is just as important as your workouts. You can't eat like shit and expect results." He looks down, then back up. "But you already know that. Sorry. I have to get used to the fact that I'm talking to an elite athlete. I'm sure you know a lot more than me."

"I know some stuff, but not everything." I hold my hand out. "Okay, it's a deal. You can be my trainer."

He shakes on it. "Then we'll start today. Give me twelve reps on the leg press." He points to it. I can only do really light weights on that machine, which will clue Austin in to the fact that I'm more injured than I admitted to.

"I'm doing upper body today," I tell him.

"Then head to the lat pull. We'll start with that."

"Don't you have to go to work?"

He checks the clock on the wall and sighs. "Shit. You're right. Sorry, I didn't realize it was so late. How about this? During my break today, I'll write out a preliminary plan, then we'll meet up for dinner to go over it."

"Okay, I could do that." I told Amber I'd eat with her tonight, but she's going to Matt's apartment for dinner so I would've just been a third wheel again. I'd rather go out with Austin.

"How about we meet at Nem's Wok? It's just a few miles from here. I go there a lot because you can pick your ingredients. We can load up on protein and vegetables." He grins. "It all starts with good nutrition."

"Sounds good. What time do you want to meet?"

"Does seven work?"

"Sure. I'll see you then." But then I remember I have no way to get there. "Wait. I don't have a car. Is this place on the bus line?"

"I don't think so. I'll just pick you up. Text me your address."

"I need your number."

"That's right." He chuckles. "I've tried to give it to you so many times I thought you already had it."

"Sorry about that." I hand him my phone to put the number in. "I just don't like collecting phone numbers from strange guys. Not that you're strange. It's just—"

"Don't worry about it." He hands me my phone. "I'll see you tonight."

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