go. Nobody saw me, so what did it matter? I would have changed when I took my shower after lunch.
Annoyance was rising and while I wanted to get grumbly, stubborn, and tell him to fuck off, instead I preceded him out of the house into the bright sunshine of the day.
Squinting at the light, I settled my sunglasses onto my nose and started down the driveway. Being contrary wouldn’t give me information on what this training was going to consist of or why Diana had felt the need to send me the most gorgeous man in the Universe to do it.
I wish I hadn’t been so curious, because two miles later - with an ass on fire and calves that were screaming at me to stop - the answers to those two questions were no closer to being answered.
Every time my mouth opened to ask, he would tell me to concentrate on the movement of my muscles. Occasionally he would comment on the way I was placing my foot as it struck the pavement, or how my arms weren’t swinging correctly, and then he would become silent again.
I’d like to say that I took it like a man and was stoic about the entire ordeal.
I wasn’t.
I started the sarcastic bitching after 15 minutes. This wasn’t a leisurely pace that we were taking. I was practically running to keep up with his long legs and the new shoes made it difficult to get a good stride.
Mrs. Johnson had recently dead-headed her roses and was now in the process of spreading fake spider webs through her holly bushes.
I raised a hand in greeting, trying not to trip over my new shoes at the pace we were keeping.
“I can’t wait to see the decorations this year Mrs. Johnson!” I called as I practically galloped past her house.
Her mouth dropped open as we passed by and she nodded distractedly. Oh great, before you knew it, the gossips would have me in a torrid affair with my personal trainer. If I were lucky the lurid details would only have me shagging on street corners instead of in orgiastic parties full of drugs and gang members.
“Fantastic,” I muttered.
He ignored my bitching and studied my neighborhood as though he was staking it out for later. The houses in my neighborhood sat on large lots that backed either onto each other or the wooded area to the West.
They weren’t mansions, but this wasn’t the ghetto by any means. The managed community boasted large two story and ranch houses. Brightly colored painted siding was mixed with the deep earth tones of stucco and lawns were manicured - maintained by the residents with loving care or parceled off onto a lawn service like mine was.
I'd given up and hired someone to take care of my grass and shrubberies after bringing Mrs. Johnson to tears with my attempt at roses. I'd also managed to kill three harvests worth of tomatoes, carrots and strawberries, destroyed 5 rosemary bushes and two years' worth of tulips and azaleas. The lawn service was worth it to keep me from massacring any more innocent plant life. My maple trees were left to their own devices and had miraculously survived despite my attention.
My back began to burn as I thought about getting my service to plant some fall flowers along the driveway and then discarded it as too labor intensive. I didn’t want to have to water them.
I stopped paying attention to my screaming under-used muscles and focused on how Dylan had done on his test today. Should I get that tutor for him? Was it normal for kids his age to have so much difficulty with reading? Did I have Muenster cheese in the fridge? Today seemed like a great grilled cheese and tomato soup day. How many days until Rose got home?
I ran through my mental calendar and was relieved to discover that I only had 1 day to go. Was she going to think I was crazy?
I nodded. She was going to think that I was crazy but then she’d believe me anyway. That’s what best friends did.
“Are you talking to yourself?” His words startled me out of my daydreaming and I blushed.
“Well, you’re not talking to
Annoyance was rising and while I wanted to get grumbly, stubborn, and tell him to fuck off, instead I preceded him out of the house into the bright sunshine of the day.
Squinting at the light, I settled my sunglasses onto my nose and started down the driveway. Being contrary wouldn’t give me information on what this training was going to consist of or why Diana had felt the need to send me the most gorgeous man in the Universe to do it.
I wish I hadn’t been so curious, because two miles later - with an ass on fire and calves that were screaming at me to stop - the answers to those two questions were no closer to being answered.
Every time my mouth opened to ask, he would tell me to concentrate on the movement of my muscles. Occasionally he would comment on the way I was placing my foot as it struck the pavement, or how my arms weren’t swinging correctly, and then he would become silent again.
I’d like to say that I took it like a man and was stoic about the entire ordeal.
I wasn’t.
I started the sarcastic bitching after 15 minutes. This wasn’t a leisurely pace that we were taking. I was practically running to keep up with his long legs and the new shoes made it difficult to get a good stride.
Mrs. Johnson had recently dead-headed her roses and was now in the process of spreading fake spider webs through her holly bushes.
I raised a hand in greeting, trying not to trip over my new shoes at the pace we were keeping.
“I can’t wait to see the decorations this year Mrs. Johnson!” I called as I practically galloped past her house.
Her mouth dropped open as we passed by and she nodded distractedly. Oh great, before you knew it, the gossips would have me in a torrid affair with my personal trainer. If I were lucky the lurid details would only have me shagging on street corners instead of in orgiastic parties full of drugs and gang members.
“Fantastic,” I muttered.
He ignored my bitching and studied my neighborhood as though he was staking it out for later. The houses in my neighborhood sat on large lots that backed either onto each other or the wooded area to the West.
They weren’t mansions, but this wasn’t the ghetto by any means. The managed community boasted large two story and ranch houses. Brightly colored painted siding was mixed with the deep earth tones of stucco and lawns were manicured - maintained by the residents with loving care or parceled off onto a lawn service like mine was.
I'd given up and hired someone to take care of my grass and shrubberies after bringing Mrs. Johnson to tears with my attempt at roses. I'd also managed to kill three harvests worth of tomatoes, carrots and strawberries, destroyed 5 rosemary bushes and two years' worth of tulips and azaleas. The lawn service was worth it to keep me from massacring any more innocent plant life. My maple trees were left to their own devices and had miraculously survived despite my attention.
My back began to burn as I thought about getting my service to plant some fall flowers along the driveway and then discarded it as too labor intensive. I didn’t want to have to water them.
I stopped paying attention to my screaming under-used muscles and focused on how Dylan had done on his test today. Should I get that tutor for him? Was it normal for kids his age to have so much difficulty with reading? Did I have Muenster cheese in the fridge? Today seemed like a great grilled cheese and tomato soup day. How many days until Rose got home?
I ran through my mental calendar and was relieved to discover that I only had 1 day to go. Was she going to think I was crazy?
I nodded. She was going to think that I was crazy but then she’d believe me anyway. That’s what best friends did.
“Are you talking to yourself?” His words startled me out of my daydreaming and I blushed.
“Well, you’re not talking to
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