Page 1 of Bewitch

CHAPTER1

Ihate myself right now.

I think most everyone has to hate themselves in order to pick up weights. I mean, yeah, sure, getting strong is nice and all, and I want to get skinny. Okay, realistically, I’ll never be skinny, but I want to be at a healthier weight.

But isn’t cardio a better way to go about it? Because this is seriously embarrassing.

“You need to stop moving your arms so much,” my personal fitness trainer says.

Lucas Thorpe. Hunky gym rat. Blond hair, bewitching blue eyes, tall, muscular, not a bit of fat on his body, I’m sure. I almost wish that guys didn’t have to wear a shirt here at the gym just so I could see if he has a six pack or maybe even an eight pack. Is that a thing, eight packs? Because if anyone might have that, Lucas might.

He’s glaring at me, and I hate that he caught my staring at him. This is humiliating enough as it is. When I wanted to get a fitness trainer, I wanted a female one, but no, I’m stuck with Lucas the Hottie, and I’m sure he’s hating that he’s with Dawn the Fattie.

“I thought with bicep curls, you need to move your arms,” I mutter.

“Yes, but like this.” He casually grabs thirty-five pound dumbbells and does a few reps easily. Do you see how I’m not swinging my arms? Only my forearms are going up and down. You’re… I’m not even sure what it is that you’re doing.”

I blow out a breath and try again.

“No. I guess that’s too heavy for you.” He puts his dumbbells on the rack and then motions for me to do the same.

I grit my teeth. I was using five-pond weights. This is beyond pathetic. I never want to go over to this side of the gym. Everyone else here fits in, and I stick out like a sore thumb.

“I’m not even sure if we have smaller weights,” he mumbles, clearly talking to himself. “Stay here.”

“Will do. Where else would I go?” I ask, swaying my arms and clapping and repeating that again and again. “I’m not going to just walk around carrying weights.”

Lucas already started to walk away, but he turns back to me. “Actually, that’s a god idea. Pick up whatever weights you can handle and walk.”

I gape at him. “I was joking.”

“I’m not,” he says. “Do it.”

“But that’s ridiculous!” I protest.

“What’s ridiculous is that you think just coming here to the gym will be enough to get you to change your body. What’s that saying? Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result?” He lifts his eyebrows.

I scowl, hating that he’s partially making sense while also putting me down. “People can and have lost weight by doing nothing more than walking!”

“If that’s what you want to do, then walk, but walk with weights in your hand. Don’t go on a treadmill. That’s an order.”

“An order? Excuse me?”

“You hired me to be your fitness trainer, right? Trust me. Or not. Quit already.”

My nostrils flare, and I reach for the five-pound weights again, but one of those girls grabs them. You know the kind, with perky boobs and a tight ass that her yoga pants reveal that she’s going commando and a full face of makeup. She doesn’t look my way at all and starts to do bicep curls. If you ask me, her arms are swaying, and she’s somehow for whatever reason, bringing the weights in more than just up so they’re tapping against her boobs. Maybe she wants to bring even more attention to them, but I’m just wondering how her back can handle her boobs the way she’s thrusting them out. Yikes.

Oh, fuck. I’m doing it again. I shouldn’t judge others, especially since I know everyone is judging me. I wish to hell that Heather was here with me. She had been my gym buddy, but she’s moving away, and that’s why I asked for a fitness trainer in the first place.

I know I have an issue with food. I’m a foodie. I love to eat, and the food all go right to my hips and ass and thighs. Not my boobs, though. Not that I’m flat, but my boobs should be bigger considering my size. So not fair.

“If you’ll excuse me,” I mumble, and I reach in front of her to grab the next size up, tens.

“Are you lost?” she asks, scoffing.

I pause. My face has to be bright red.

“Do I look lost?” I ask after a moment.

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