Page 94 of Bewitch

“Don’t try,” I say firmly. “Do it.”

She nods.

“Now, what do you want to eat?” I ask lightly, trying to set her mind at ease. This is some seriously heavy shit we’re dealing with.

And I certainly feel like shit too. Why is the world filled with so many terribly wicked people?

CHAPTER27

The next day, Pamela’s smile is a bit strained, and my heart sinks.

He told her.

She hates me.

I’m going to be kicked out of the gym.

“Dawn, Lucas isn’t here today,” she says.

I blow out a breath. “Is he sick?” I ask, trying to sound calm and concerned.

And I am concerned. I don’t want him to be sick.

It isn’t possible that he’s heartbroken, right? No way. And blue balls should’ve been easy enough for him to handle. He’s a big boy. Hell, he probably has a book with a ton of names and numbers for chicks who could help him and have taken my place.

My stomach twists. I don’t like that thought at all, but when a guy looks like Lucas, who wouldn’t want to do him?

“He’s not here today,” Pamela says, and there’s something so off about her that I can’t stop myself from thinking that he told her what I did.

I clear my throat. “I’m sorry to hear that. I…”

I’m honestly at a loss. I feel like I’m sinking in quicksand, and I try to think of what to say next.

“Do you need anything from me?” I ask. “How are you? Are you okay?”

I’m okay,” she says. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

Just then, a guy walks up to the welcome desk.

“Here you go,” Pamela says. “This is Craig. He’ll be your trainer.”

I don’t even look over at him. “Just for today, right?” I blurt out.

Pamela says nothing.

My heart sinks. Lucas didn’t quit, did he? He needs this job! He wouldn’t do that, right? Not based on what I did.

Well, I did what I wanted. Clearly, I did get under his skin, and I completely humiliated him. He just needs a day, two at the most, and then we can talk and get this whole thing behind us. It’ll be fine. Once he realizes why I did it, he’ll become a better trainer.

Pamela has already moved on to help someone else, and I realize she didn’t even tell Craig my name.

“Hi, I’m Dawn,” I say. “I guess you—”

“This way,” he says, his tone as professional as could be. Polished, slick. No-nonsense.

I almost prefer the harsh snapping of Lucas. Could it be that, to some small degree, Lucas’s method is better at least for me?

“What have you and Lucas been working on?” Craig asks.

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