Page 19 of Every Inch of You
Chapter Five
BRAD
Most personal trainershave been athletic since childhood—high school jocks, or at least they’ve been fitness enthusiasts for years. I started out way behind the curve, but that became part of my business story and I used it to my advantage. What I didn’t tell clients or anyone else is that the one muscle I still had to work on was my heart. Yeah, I said it. I know it’s cheesy, but it’strue.
On a scale of 1 to 10, my relationship experience would have rated about a 2.5 at best, and I hadn’t had the time or the inclination to get that score up. Dealing with Vivian Sparks again was making me feel more like I was at around1.25.
Still, it was so satisfying, seeing her look at me like she wanted to eat me alive. I just wished that the feeling weren’t so mutual. I wondered if people were doomed to be attracted to the people they were attracted to in their youth forever—the way that listening to the music you listened to when you were young instantly makes you feel young again. I couldn’t believe I was battling erections like an adolescent again—even while I was at work. I was usually very good at compartmentalizing, but this was anotherlevel.
Mind over matter was onething.
Mind over Vivian’s groaning panting sweaty body—nearly impossible. I never should have agreed to take her on as a client to begin with. It was just asking fortrouble.
I had to resort to every trick I had up my sleeve—listing state capitals, multiplication tables, listing World Series MVPs, thinking about all the gross farts I’ve ever had to smell at the gym, thinking about that scene inGame of Throneswhere the guy’s head wascrushed.
Sometimes all it took was a text message from her. She had sent me about five pictures of her meals and I had criticized all of them. The sixth photo she sent me was of a leather shoe. At first I thought it was a mistake, but then she wrote:going paleo forlunch.
I replied:As long as the cow was grass-fed and raised without antibiotics and growth hormones. Just don’t add too muchsalt.
For dinner, she sent a picture of a livesquirrel.
My response:Depends how you prepare it. Recommend roasting with vegetables and small amount oliveoil.
For her late-night snack, she sent a photo of a weird crooked uncircumcisedpenis.
I burst out laughing. Now I had one more thing to think about when trying to vanquish a stiff one. I wrote back:You should bring your boyfriend to the gym—I’ll give him a discount. Looks like he can use all the help he canget.
Ilikedthat she was being funny with me. I didn’t get a lot of that from women. Before I got in shape, girls mostly just talked to me about other guys. After I got in shape, they’d just compliment me and then try to make out with me. Or they’d try to make me think they weren’t into me and then try to make out with me. Or they’d pretend to be lesbians so I’d hang out with them and then they’d make out with each other in front of me and then try to make out with me. I’m not saying which of these techniques were successful in getting me to make out with the women—I’m just saying that I appreciated how funny Viv was withme.
But I didn’t tellherthat.
She showeredat the gym after her workout Saturday evening. I wanted to ask her if she had plans, but I also didn’t want to know. I wanted her to ask me if I wanted to grab dinner or a drink again, because I probably would have said yes. I knew I wouldn’t be seeing her for two days and I didn’t like that. I didn’t like wondering whom she’d be spending her time with if notme.
Her hair was still damp, and I could smell her shampoo (she was back to Pantene again), and I wanted to see her naked. But I didn’t even smile at her when she waved goodbye to me. I just nodded and lookedaway.
I went out to the parking lot behind the gym to look for her a minute later, but she was gone. I’m glad she was gone, because I wasn’t exactly sure what I would have said to her then. Actually, I was sure I wouldn’t havesaidanything.
I went through the contacts in my phone, trying to pick a woman to call, to keep my mind off of Vivian, as I had done for years and years prior to that week when she started coming to mygym.
I almost smashed my phone into the cement, because there wasn’t one person on Earth I wanted to be with besidesher.
But at that point, I would rather have thought about farts and head-crushing every day for the rest of my life than let her know how I feltagain.
