Page 10 of Mr. Red

“Look at you. Glad I didn’t jinx you. I need to go drop this off real quick. Be right back.”

I walk over to the locker room to drop my bag off with the feel of eyes digging into my back. I turn my head to see Matthew Reding checking in at the front desk. He stares at me, unwilling to turn away even though I caught him looking at me. He gives me a half smile and raises his hand in a wave.

Looks like Mr. Red has gotten his panties to untwist. My stomach seems to do the opposite at the slight turn in his smile. Hopefully, he’ll be the gentleman he promised to be today.

I place my bag down, with a long, slow inhale before walking over to the desk. Mr. Reding’s eyes find mine. They’re a greenish-hazel, and I’m having a hard time pulling my gaze from them.

What’s going on?

His molded arms stand out in a black tank top. His hair is styled loosely, like he just got out of bed and rustled it a bit. It leaves him looking effortless.

“Mr. Reding,” I greet, keeping my distance.

“Miss Daniels.” He nods.

“Let’s start with weight, measurements, and goals first.” I adopt a straight back and try to be stoic. I can’t fall for the puppy dog eyes, deep voice, and sharp jaw.

He responds with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Call me Matt. You’re the boss. I’ll follow you, ma’am.” He puts his arm out, telling me to lead the way.

I raise an eyebrow. “You know I’m not ninety, right?”

“Yes, I’m aware.” He looks me up and down without even trying to hide it.

“Okay, no need for ‘ma’am’ then.”

“Ah, a habit we do down in the south. Sounded like we were being formal. Just following your lead.”

“Well, ‘miss’ would also work.”

“Noted.”

I lead him to a room with a scale, various measurement tools, a clock, and a small table with two chairs. I have a folder with a chart and a place to fill in notes. The first appointment with a trainer at our gym consists of intaking measurements, weight, and going over goals. That way, thetrainer can track the client’s progress and help the client achieve the results they want with their body.

I wish we could just get to the workout. I’ve just realized taking measurements includes being inveryclose proximity to one another. I wonder if I’ll be able to stay close and not kiss the guy. I mean, deck the guy!

It’s fine. Stay cool, calm, and collected.

My throat tightens and my face burns. I need to stay busy. The sooner we get started, the sooner he can go on his merry way.

Until I see him for his next session.

Fuck me.

“Okay, let’s start with your height.” He steps up to the wall, and I measure above his head, making sure not to touch him. “Looks like six foot two. Go ahead and step on the scale next. Okay, two-hundred and thirty-five pounds.” I write down the number. “Go ahead and step down. Why don’t you take a seat.”

I point to the chair and then sit diagonally across from him in the other open chair. My leg starts bouncing up and down, wanting to get this done. He sits and then moves his chair closer to mine.

Um, what?

That’s not helping me stay cool, calm, and collected. My heart races as a hint of sandalwood and musk hit my nostrils.

“I stay focused when I’m close,” he explains in a casual tone. “Makes me feel involved in the project.”

Don’t buckle for him, Scarlett.Sure, he has some amazing muscles. Yeah, maybe his face is the most handsome one I’ve ever seen, with that strong jaw. Yes, I may have noticed he smells divine, but I can’t show I’m attracted to him.

I make my eyes dart down to my chart and try to act like his close proximity isn’t affecting me. I move along with my questions.

“In order to help you achieve your optimum fitness level you’d like to accomplish during your time here, what is your main goal? Do you want to lose weight? Gain weight? Coming to feel healthy?”

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