Page 31 of Outspoken

After a moment to calm my body, I say, “I’ve got a few minutes before my next client if you want to run through more exercises.”

Her shaky voice is distant and thin as she stares past me. “No, um, I’m pretty exhausted and sweaty. If that’s a light workout, I really don’t want to know what’s intense.”

My abs tighten.Don’t go.Not yet. “How about I print out sheets of the exercises we went through? You can have them for reference.”

“Oh, um, no thanks. I’ll remember. I appreciate it, though.” She smooths the bottom of her shirt. “Sorry for taking up your time and bothering you. I’m—”

“You never bother me.”

“Thanks, but I didn’t mean to get you in trouble. I really don’t know what I meant or what I was thinking, so…” Her eyes dart to the exit. “Sorry. I have to go. Thanks again.” She scurries away before I can respond.

I’m too unsettled leaving things this way. I wait until I see her exit the locker room—now wearing jeans and a different shirt—then I jog after her through the parking lot.

“Amber.”

She stops, clutching her tote bag, but doesn’t turn around.

I move into her line of sight. Whatever casual and cool attitude I was trying to maintain cracks, and all I can focus on is fixing whatever startled her. I can’t screw up this reset. I need to see her again. Every time she’s near, this deep part of me is finally content. I can't let that go, so I ignore the small voice in my head that tells me not to push. I just crave something real and meaningful.Why can’t I push for love?

“Hey,” I say, catching my breath. “That wasn’t professional of me. I’m sorry.”

She avoids eye contact. “I was doing it too, so don’t apologize. I’m the one who should apologize. I almost got you in trouble.”

“Naw. It’s all good.”

“I have to go.”

She takes a step and I’m quick to say, “Go out with me.”

Her blue eyes dart to mine, blinking. “What?”

“You know I have feelings for you. Let me take you on a date.”

After another moment of blinking, her brows crush together like I’m nuts. She looks away. “No.”

“No? You don’t feel anything between us? Why flirt?”

“Correct. I don’t feel anything. You’re a fun guy, and I’m flirtatious. Or, it’s just you. Y-you have this energy that just draws me in and gets me flirty, and it’s a problem. I came here because I feel fat and I want to lose weight. I wanted your help, but that doesn’t mean there’s anything deeper. Flirting makes me feel normal and I just needed…” She scowls, looking pissed off, but I don’t know if she’s pissed at me or something else. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry for using you to make myself feel better. It’s a shitty thing to do.”

I push. I can’t stop myself. “I said you could use me for anything. I meant it.”

She flails her arms. “Jesus. Do you hear yourself? You shouldn’t tell someone touseyou. This is why I don’t feel anything between us and why we shouldn’t interact.”

I cross my arms, trying to shield that fragile little spot in my heart that even Carlita knows about. “Why?”

“You’re too intense, Miguel. I don’t know if your feelings are genuine or if you’re putting me on a pedestal. I’ve heard the stories. You fall in love on first dates. You try to spend so much time with women that they beg for a little space. You proposed to two women in the span of three years. That’s insane to me. Opening up takestime—knowing who someone really is takes time. Love can’t just blossom overnight. You’re a great guy and very caring and generous, but I don’t do intense emotions. And I don’t think you can do anything except that.” She hugs her waist, her voice losing steam. “I’m sorry if that came out mean. I’m not trying to hurt your feelings. I don’t like to sugarcoat.”

Crossing my arms didn’t help—that fragile spot is sore. But she’s not wrong. I am intense. I can also be clingy. It's worse that I know my faults yet haven’t been able to change them. Regardless, I don’t understand why falling in love at first sight is so wrong.

“I’ve heard stories about you, too,” I say. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. My stomach churns.That didn’t come out right.I’ve heard wonderful stories about her—ones that only deepen my attraction.

Her eyes widen, tears pooling along her lids. “I, I know you have.” She clears her throat. “I need to go.”

Mierda. Chasing after her, I say, “Wait! Amber, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Wait, please.”

She stops, refusing to face me.

“I’ve heardamazingstories,” I start, my tone gentle, “and they’ve only made my feelings deepen. You make it sound as if I’m liking you out of nowhere. That’s not it. We actually—”

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