Page 57 of Not That Ridiculous

“No, you’re kind of cranking your upper body up and down when you bend your knees, and what you’re supposed to be working is your arse and hamstrings.”

“Right. Like this.” I did another one.

“Nope. Hold on.” Jasper moved behind me and put his hands on my hips. “Now try it.”

Once upon a time, having Jasper sweating and hot behind me—also sweating and hot—would havedonethings to me. Right now, it made me want to tread on his foot and stalk off back to the changing room.

I tried a squat, and squawked when his fingers on my hips firmed and he tugged them back towards him as I bent my knees.

“Stick your arse out, Charlie,” he said.

“That doesn’t sound good for my back.” I straightened.

“Don’t hollow it, but you have to push your arse out, keeping your chest as straight as you can, or you’re crouching. This is a squat, not a crouch.”

I’d hadnoidea that bending over could be so complicated.

I gave it another shot.

“Almost,” Jasper said.

“For god’s sake.” I straightened and swung the bar off my shoulders. “What am I doing wrong?”

“You’re not doing anything with your arse.” He gave it a light slap. “You’re leaving it out of the equation altogether, when it should be front and centre. Push it out more. You’re going to feel like it’s too much, and when you get there, do it even more. Think about hinging at your hips to get your thighs parallel to the ground, and thrust your way up to standing. Put your glutes into it. Do another one without the bar.”

I did it again.

“Stay down there,” Jasper said, “and I’ll adjust you.”

I did as he said, even though my thighs waited all of three seconds before they started complaining.

Five seconds, and they were quivering.

Jasper got behind me again and pulled my hips back. My arse was pressed high into his thighs. “That’s better. Yeah. Like that. Good, Charlie. You feel that? Feel good? Oh. Hi, Kevin. I totally didn’t see you there.”

A pair of black trainers appeared out of nowhere on the mat in front of me, and my eyes tracked up to Kevin’s face. I tried to stand up but Jasper was still gripping my hips and instead of standing, I flailed. Kevin’s hands shot out and caught my shoulders, supporting me.

Well.

This felt like a compromising position. This was less of a squat and more of a crouching forward fold.

I engaged my tired and quietly sobbing core muscles and tried again to stand, but neither of them loosened their grip and I just spasmed between them. I threw out a hand to catch myself. It landed on Kevin’s thigh. “Guys?” I said. “I’d like to stand up now. This is weird.”

Last week, it had looked like we were having a three-way gym date, all mashed up together in the corner of the room, flexing our biceps at each other. Today wasn’t quite that subtle.

Today, it looked like I was on the brink of being spit-roasted.

“I’ve got him,” Kevin said. “You can let go, Jasper.”

“Nobody needs to be holding me, actually,” I said. “I can stand. I really can. All I need is a little room, and?—”

Jasper tugged me closer. My legs had partially straightened, putting my arse a couple of inches shy of his groin. I grunted as he pulled me even more off balance. The forward fold deepened. “I’ve got him,” he said. “You move back and he’ll have room.”

“Guys.”

Kevin shifted closer. His fingers tightened on my shoulders. “That’s okay, Jasper,” he said. “I’vegot him.”

“Guys, come on.” I gave it another go, but my centre of gravity was who knows where at this point, my upper body had folded over a couple more inches, and I’d be nuzzling Kevin’s gym shorts any minute. “Argh. Kevin, help.”

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