Page 36 of Bittersweet

And there we are once again, back on the train to Flirt Town with those sexy eyes he keeps making atme.

“So tell me more about yourself,” Marc says, angling his body toward me. “How are you finding your journey toward better health andfitness?”

I suppress a snort.Oh, it’s great, thanks. You know that feeling you get when you look in the mirror and think ‘looking this way is worthit?’

It’s nothappening.

Not evenclose.

“Oh, you know. It’sfine.”

He nods his understanding. “It’s a good life change to make. The diet restrictions can be challenging at first, but once you get through those initial few weeks, things really open up. Now, one of my biggest challenges is finding the time to eat—I like to have six small meals perday.”

“Six small meals?” Well, that doesn’t sound so bad. “I love food. I could dothat.”

Marc laughs. “My mother would adore you.” His gaze lingers a moment longer. “I’d love to introduce yousometime.”

Be still my beating heart.What a charmer. With those looks, the compliments, the fact he owns his own business and looks like a demigod—if a slightly short one—I’m beginning to think my mother would adore him,too.

“Here ya go.” Angie bounces between us, sliding my smoothie and a small shot glass of something green in front of me. “One special with a side ofwheatgrass.”

“Thanks.” I smile at her departing figure, take the shooter, and knock itback.

Ugh.

It’shideous.

Still, with a name like wheatgrass, I expected nothing less, so I grab the smoothie to chase itand—

It also tastes likegrass.

Like grass that has been rinsed in grass water and blended with grass icecream.

I cough, covering my mouth. It’s hideous. It’s the most revolting thing I’ve evertasted.

“Good, huh?” Marc asks, nodding to thedrink.

I shake my head. “Are you kidding? This thing is trying to killme.”

“It’s a homicidalsmoothie?”

“Yes! It’s going to bore my taste buds to death.” I reach into my bag and pull out my bottle of water, then take a sip to wash the remnants of the taste from my mouth.Ugh.

“You could always come back to my place. I don’t start my next session for another hour, and I only live a short walk away.” Marc leans in closer, his breath heating the skin on my neck. “And I won’t need an hour to make you the best goddamn drink you’ve everhad.”

I widen myeyes.

My personal trainer wants to take me back to his place for a “smoothie.” Only, I get the feeling I’m the only thing he has an appetitefor.

I shouldn’t go. It’s ridiculous. I have feelings for Elio. Even though we weren’t really in a relationship, I’m mourning the loss of him in my life as if we were, as if I meant to him what he means tome.

Not only that, but I barely know this Marc guy. Sure, he’s appetizing to look at, but it’s not as if we have some deepconnection.

“I don’t know . . .” I say, just as Angie skips over again and this time places a drink in front ofMarc.

“For my favorite customer,” shesays.

He’s her favorite customer. He’s her favorite, and he’s flirting withme.

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