Page 5 of Sweet on You
“Okay, let’s get started!” I hit the button on my phone, starting the timer. Lex jumped into his first set of burpees, which I watched carefully, noting his form. Hisgoodform. He clearly did them frequently. Next up, tire flips. I ran beside him, cheering him on. Some trainers did the opposite—they yell, they berate, they bully as a way to enhance the workout. Why in the hell would that work? I guess for some people it did, but that wasn’t my style. I was there to support, not discourage. And in my gym, it simply wasn’t allowed… and all my trainers knew it.
I sprinted beside him as he finished up the first round, swinging the kettlebell through his legs. “Take it easy,” I cautioned. If he’d never done it before, he could overextend his back or shoulders. The last thing I wanted was for him to hurt himself. “Go slower with these until you’re used to them.”
He grinned, “Eh, they’re not so hard.”
I lifted a brow at him. “Oh yeah? Let’s see if you’re whistlin’ a different tune on round three.” Then, I pointed a finger at him, standing a safe distance away. “I’m serious though. Take it slowly.”
He nodded and after he set the kettlebell carefully down on the sidewalk, saluted me with two fingers pressed against his damp forehead. “You got it, boss.”
“No breaks!” I clapped my hands. “Back to the burpees!Go!”
We continued that way for two more rounds. And by the final tire flips, I could see his pace slowing. Sweat poured down his chiseled face and I couldn’t help but notice that his reddish brown hair was darker when sweat-damp. He grunted as he flipped the tire the final time, dropping it back onto the sidewalk. I grabbed it and propped it up against the outside wall of the gym. “You got this, Lex! You’re killing it!” And I meant every word. He was tearing through this workout.
And he was so ridiculously sexy. Not because of his body or muscles—which, okay, I wasn’t blind. Those were sexy, too. But his determination? His hard work?Thatwas sexy as hell. And frankly, these workouts made my job so much more fun when I had a client like Lex. If my goal earlier was to get him to quit… my goal had completely changed now. I wanted him to stay. To thrive. This sort of work fed my soul in a way nothing else did.
“Oh, God.” He paused, bracing his hands on his knees briefly. “I need a second.”
“Take a breath,” I said. “Have a sip of water. You’re doing amazing work, Lex. Don’t push it, though. Take the breather.”
To our left, I heard my name called out and looked to the street where my friend James was riding his motorcycle. He paused at the stop sign and waved, checking behind him to see if he was blocking any other vehicles… he wasn’t. “What’s up, babe?” He called out over the roar of the engine.
“What are you doing here?” I yelled back to him. James was one of my oldest friends from summer camp. He ran an interior design firm and his husband, Nate, owned a bunch of rentals in Maple Grove.
“Helping Elsa spruce up the café. Dinner tonight?
“I have plans with Yvonne. Tomorrow?”
“It’s a date,” he said, and I blew him a kiss. To my right, Lex grunted, tossing his water bottle to the ground.
“I’m ready,” he said, his voice suddenly sharp. “Let’s finish this.”
I felt startled by his sudden change of tone and blinked as I turned back to Lex and saw the drastic change in his demeanor. Whereas before he was smiling and joking around, despite being tired, now he was grumpy, his mouth set into a frown.
“Awesome!” I said carefully. “Let’s do it. Just be carefu—” But I barely got the words out before he bent down, grabbed the kettle bell and swung it hard into the air. Too hard. He was flinging it carelessly up and down—between his legs, then up to his shoulder height.
“Lex,” I cautioned. “Easy. You’re going to hurt yourself. You have twenty more to go and you’re done—”
Once again, I wasn’t able to finish my sentence. Because before I could, the kettle bell slipped from his hand, went flying through the air and crashed right through my car window.
