Page 5 of Sebastian

“Uh-huh.” Noel’s not buying it.

Even Rhys is giving me a knowing smile. “Are you still thinking about Chris Preacher?”

“What? No, maybe. It doesn’t matter what I was thinking about.” I pick up my mimosa and down it, then do the same with my coffee. All three of them watch me until I don’t have any more drinks to distract them with.

“Okay, fine, I was thinking about Chris Preacher.”

Noel shakes his head. “Wow, you’ve got it bad.”

I sigh. There’s no point in arguing with him. I do have it bad, but you know what? That’s okay. I’m a Chris Preacher fan and I don’t care who knows it.

CHAPTER THREE

CHRISTIAN

There’s a name on my schedule today that I don’t recognize. Weird. My client list is technically full and there shouldn’t be any new names mysteriously popping up.

“Hey Beau,” I call out to one of the owners of Mars Fitness and my boss. “Do you know what the deal is with the new guy on my schedule? Sebastian Silvestri?”

On the other side of the front desk, Beau glances at the sheet of paper I’ve turned toward him. His initial look of confusion brightens when he remembers.

“Oh, him. He’s a new member. You were working with a client when I showed him around last week and then he asked for you when scheduling his intro session.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “He did?” That doesn’t usually happen. In fact, most of these intro sessions get assigned to the newer personal trainers who don’t already have full client lists. I haven’t done one of these in years.

“He did.”

I lower my voice even though there’s no one around us to overhear. “Does he know?”

Beau shrugs. “Beats me, but he did seem pretty distracted after we walked past you doing a cooldown.”

I sigh. I guess I’ll find out later this afternoon. “Okay. Thanks, Beau.”

My previous career as an adult entertainer is probably the worst-kept secret around Mars. It’s not something I go around announcing to anyone, but all my co-workers know and they’ve all been cool about it. A few of them have even admitted to seeing some of my work before. No big deal.

I don’t bother hiding it from any of the gym’s members either. I’ve had people come up and ask me about it and I’ll say yes. If they ask for autographs, I’ll sign whatever they hand me. If they ask for selfies, I’ll politely decline. Only once has someone gotten too pushy and Beau had to step in to ask them to leave.

I’m not ashamed of what I used to do for a living. It was honest work and I was good at it. But the key word there is “used to.” I’m not a performer anymore, I’m a personal trainer, and I don’t want people getting the two mixed up.

Sebastian’s not scheduled until the afternoon and between now and then I’ve got two other clients and a lunch break. I throw myself into my work as I always do, giving every client my full attention and making sure they’re getting their money’s worth. Lunch is a lentil salad and a peanut butter protein shake from the juice bar in Mars’s lobby. Then it’s time for Sebastian’s session.

He looks nervous when I meet him at the front desk. Fidgety and awkward, his hands are gripping the strap of his gym bag so tight his knuckles are white.

It’s common for members to be nervous if they’ve never worked with a personal trainer before. I get it. It’s intimidating to have this big buff guy evaluating your body and telling you what to do, especially if you’re already self-conscious about how you look.

But this guy is fit. Not necessarily ripped like a lot of the guys around here, but lean and lithe with well-defined muscles and probably very little body fat. He’s most likely not lifting weights, but I can tell that he’s no stranger to working out and watching what he eats.

“Hi Sebastian, I’m Christian.” I hold out my hand and he stares at it for a split second before he takes it.

That’s when I remember. I’ve seen this guy before. I literally ran into him. I was coming around the corner of the locker room and he was on his phone and we landed chest to chest. He had the same stunned look on his face that he’s wearing now, lips parted and eyes wide.

I’m familiar with this look. It’s the one people get when they’re fanboying over me. They might think it’s embarrassing for them, but they have no idea how embarrassing it is for me. Once upon a time, I used to bask in that kind of attention, thinking that it meant something for random strangers to fawn all over me. But again, “used to”. That was a previous life, one that I left a long time ago.

“Why don’t you put your things away and I’ll meet you outside the locker room?”

Sebastian nods, eyes wide, and then kind of scurries away.

He’s cute.

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