Page 40 of Bewitch

“I’m not a baby bird. I’m not going to fly if you shove me off a fucking cliff!”

“If I can’t push you, you’ll plateau or regress. Do you want that?”

“What I want is to knock you into next week.”

“Do you even know how to throw a punch?”

“Do you want to find out?” I stand but don’t remain in that spot. I march right up to him, standing far too close, invading his personal space.

He has such a presence to him. He takes up so much space all by himself, and he’s leaning down, almost as if he wants to eclipse me.

“Prove you’re worth my time and effort. Make it not about the money.” He lifts his chin. “Can you do that?”

I swallow hard. Fuck. This is exactly what I want from him, for him to make it more personal, not work related, not just business.

But that glint in his eye, the way they sparkle with his anger and something else besides…

He’s so fucking bewitching, and I’m going to end up hurt. Me.

Not him.

It’s a dangerous game I’m playing, and I have scars already.

What’s a few more?

CHAPTER12

“I’m willing to try anything and everything,” I say evenly, “but I might not be quite as strong as you think yet, but that doesn’t mean much. I’ll get there. I will get there. There will be plates on that bar eventually.”

“How about now,” he says rather than asks. He puts five pounds on either side along with clips. “Your legs are a large muscle group. They can handle heavier weights faster than chest.”

I can’t believe this. “Are you…”

“The bar is forty-five. This is a combined fifty-five. You should be able to do much more than this, but…”

And for the first time, he lays hand on me, maneuvering me to where I need to go, placing my hands on the bar just so, the bar resting across my shoulders, pinning my hair in place, which isn’t the best of feelings.

He’s standing so close to me, far too close. He’s the one invading my space now, and I swear I can feel him against my backside.

Against my ass.

I almost lift a foot.

“Plant your feet into the floor,” he instructs, and then I don’t sense him behind me anymore. “Good. Now, ass to grass.”

I start to go down. It’s not the smoothest, not at all, with me stuttering, shifting to one side and then the other, but I make my way down as best as I can.

“Lower. Lower. Grass! Shit, that’s low. Go on. Get up.”

I try. My legs don’t want to move. My back feels like it’s being compressed, like my spine is shrinking, but I blow out air and try and try and end out grunting and even letting out a slight sound, not a yell, something primordial.

And then I’m standing.

“Good. Do it again.”

“A-fucking-gain? I barely did that one?”

“I know. It doesn’t count. Shitty form.”

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