Page 23 of The Liar's Reckoning

“If there’s another trainer you can hook me up with, I’m happy to take myself off your hands.”

“I didn’t say that, either.” He looks mystified.

I cross my legs and sit up. “Is there a different conversation we need to be having, then?”

He stiffens. “Like what?”

I shrug, letting him fill in the blanks.

He runs a hand over the back of his neck and glances over at the row of ellipticals. “Not here,” he finally says.

“Do you want to?—”

“Meet me at 66thand Park at seven-thirty tomorrow morning. Wear running shoes. I guess I do have some things to say.”

I don’t know why, but those words put a pit in my stomach. Nevertheless, I nod. Better to hash it out than go on like this.

I hadto buy running shoes after I left the gym yesterday evening. I’ve never put much thought into athletic footwear, but Silas made it sound like the ones I wear to the gym are something “else.” I got asked a lot of questions in the store.What’s your weekly mileage? Trails or road? Usual pace?Even after I told them I was just getting started.

The shoes I wound up with are hideous. They’re bright white with a large neon green stripe and orange accents. They feel like nothing on my feet, which made the sticker shock that much more apparent. Two hundred dollars for two ounces of shoe? Insane.

But they’re the first thing Silas notices when I meet him at the appointed place and time. “Those look new.”

“I didn’t have running shoes.”

“You’ll get blisters.”

I sigh, staring at him with defeat on my face. He looks good this morning, despite having worked all night. It’s early November and cold, so he’s wearing a knit hat, a skin-tight, long-sleeved shirt, and compression leggings that show off every bulge and curve of him.

“You really have an outfit for every occasion, don’t you?”

“The wardrobe builds up over the years. Tech fabrics are a good investment. Although you don’t sweat that much yet, so you should be fine.”

“What does that mean I don’t sweat much? Is that bad? Or is it some kind of dig?”

He sighs. “It’s not a dig. Your body has to learn to sweat properly if it’s not used to it. You’re not there yet. Not a big deal.”

I still catch a note of something I don’t like in his tone. I wait, anxious, while he messes around with his smart watch before looking back up at me. “Let’s go.”

I catch up with his brisk walking pace as we head into the park. “I’m not gonna charge you for this ‘cause it was my idea,and we do need to talk, but normally, I would, since this is technically my time.”

“Okay,” I say but don’t thank him for the favor or whatever he thinks this is.

He’s a fast walker though my legs are just as long as his. It leaves me ample opportunity to trail behind him and get a view of his ass. It’s not on purpose. I’m genuinely trying to keep up with him, but I guess I’m not as comfortable in my body as he is. I’m having to make constant adjustments.

His ass in those pants, though. All firm, flexing muscle between trim hips lead to legs I can only describe as shapely. Curves in all the right places as they say. I pat my own ass, wondering if it’s even got the potential to look like that, which begs the question: who am I trying to impress?

“You get an awful lot of boners for someone working out with a trainer,” is how Silas starts the conversation.

I have no rebuttal. I’ll have to take his word for it.

“It makes me uncomfortable,” he adds. “I realize sometimes it’s probably involuntary, but in our case it doesn’t feel like it, and I’d like for it to stop.”

I may never get another erection as long as I live after this conversation, so I doubt he has anything to be concerned about. I do, however, respect the fact that he chose not to address this with me in the gym. “I’ll see what I can do,” I say quietly.

“Not looking up my shorts would be a good start.”

I stop walking. I don’t need this. It’s embarrassing enough to feel like a horny eighteen-year-old, but the last thing I want to hear is someone scolding me for a stain on my sheets—so to speak.

---