Page 10 of Giovanni
“Of course.”
Her tone is light, yet that flicker of interest is new and can’t be ignored.
We wrap up by setting a schedule that works with her court appearances and my sessions before walking her out. The door to the gym closes behind her, and I’m left with the echo of her laughter in my ears and the anticipation of seeing those green eyes again.
I might be here to help her relieve stress in more ways than one if she feels half of what I felt when she leaned in and gave me that look. Mr. Daniels gives me a friendly slap on the back as we watch her leave.
“How did it go?”
I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face.
“Very promising.”
The innuendo only known to me this time. Our training plan is solid, but the real question lies in what wasn’t planned—the look, the lean-in, that spark. It’s enough to make me look forward to our next session with a curiosity about more than sets and reps.
4
KACIE
As I push through the gym doors and step into the cool afternoon air, a wave of fatigue washes over me, tinged with a sense of accomplishment that’s foreign and thrilling all at once. My muscles protest, already sore from Giovanni’s carefully crafted torture. There’s a fire within me, an exhilarating burn that murmurs of change. I couldn’t be prouder of myself.
I’m doing this. I’m really doing this. The commitment, a promise made to myself in the sterile quiet of a doctor’s office, now echoes in the beat of my heart and the sweat that cools on my back. I took the first step—literally and metaphorically—and didn’t falter.
The gym lights fade behind me, but the memory of today’s session lingers vividly and sharply. With his easy smile and confident nature, Giovanni pushed me further than I thought possible. He’s good at what he does. Not just because he knows his way around the gym, there’s kindness in his approach. A softness in his touch and a genuine desire to see me achieve my goals.
I can’t help but replay that moment—the one that might have been all in my head or the start of something unexpected. His words, an offer of stress relief, hung between us, intoxicating and inviting. His cheeks flushed with a color that matched the red of the gym’s logo on his tight shirt, and for a second, time stood still.
Was it a pass? Was it the unintended slip of a tongue used in casual flirtation? I can’t be sure, yet it piques my interest more than I care to admit. I can’t remember the last time someone made a pass at me. The innocence with which it happened makes it more confusing.
Giovanni is handsome, the kind of handsome that’s obvious to every woman who walks through the doors of his gym. His silky chocolate curls caught the light in that small workout room, and his thick mustache speaks to his carefree spirit. Something I find myself envious of.
I shake my head, trying to dislodge the image, the warm brown of his eyes, and the gold flakes close to his irises, but it’s futile. He’s made an impression that has my thoughts drifting to places they haven’t wandered in far too long. Places involving him, me, and my bed.
The walk to my car combines limping from sore muscles and walking tall with pride. Each step reminds me of my work and the path I’ve now begun with the most attractive guy possible. And as I lower myself into the driver’s seat and start the engine, the soreness of my body is a testament to a new beginning.
As I drive through the fast-food restaurant for the last time, a vow I make to myself, I can’t shake the feeling that today marks a pivot. A shift in my life that’s been too long about work and not enough about well-being. Maybe it’s the endorphins talking, or perhaps it’s the thought of those curls and that moment of shared attraction that left me feeling strangely . . . alive. I’m already looking forward to the next session, the burn, the push,and whatever it is that’s sparking between Giovanni and me. There’s a journey ahead, and I’m ready to see where it leads for the first time in a long while. With a smile tugging at the corner of my lips, I realize I’m eager for the week ahead.
??
Monday morning arrives faster than I had hoped. I’m acutely aware of every sore muscle as I navigate the familiar halls of the courthouse, each step a reminder of Saturday’s physical exertions. The ache was so deeply set in my muscles the next day that I used my hands on the walls to lift off the toilet. I probably shouldn’t have caught up on my sleep like I’m guilty of doing every Sunday. I probably should have walked off the soreness as he advised during my workout, but I didn’t, and now I’m paying the price.
I’m shuffling papers on my desk, trying to focus on the cases before me, when Ethan saunters in, his brow furrowed as he holds his steaming cup of coffee.
“Good morning, Kacie.”
He observes my careful movements as I rise to retrieve my notes from the round table across the room.
“Why are you moving like you just went ten rounds in the ring?”
I glance up, the corner of my mouth lifting.
“Started working out with a personal trainer at the gym,” I confess, feeling pride and embarrassment at the admission. “I guess I’m more out of shape than I thought.”
Ethan’s eyes widen in mock horror.
“You? The woman who runs on a slow drip of coffee, carbs, and courtroom adrenaline. I don’t believe it.”
His tone is teasing, but there’s a flicker of genuine surprise there. I can’t resist rolling my eyes, but his question nudges my thoughts toward Giovanni—the burn of the workout, the heat of attraction, and the unexpected spark of connection.
