Why can't men be like seahorses and be the ones to give birth? Huh? Why does it always have to be the woman? Because right now, my life would be so much simpler and way less humiliating if that was the case.
As if I wasn't humiliated enough in the last twenty four hours after the shower incident, I now find myself sitting across from Rhodes at his desk in his office.
Rhodes sits across from me, lazily reclined back in his desk chair, his hands threaded together and resting on his stomach. He observes me, a slightly amused glint is his eyes. I instinctively cross my arms tighter over my chest under his steely gaze, starting to feel small. I don't know how long we stare at each other, almost daring the other to make the first move, but eventually he sits up, slightly leaning in over his desk to talk to me.
"So, Claire, tell me, why did you sign up with a personal trainer in the first place?"
I scoff, rolling my eyes at his stupid question. "The same reason why everyone else does."
He frowns, reclining back in his chair again. "People have a dozen different reasons to sign up with a personal trainer. Some want to lose weight, some want to gain weight. Get leaner, get bulkier. Some do it to focus on a specific area..." He shrugs a broad shoulder. "There are numerous reasons why people sigh up with a personal trainer."
I scowl at him. "Well I obviously need to lose weight," I state.
His frown seems to deepen, his dark brows pinching together. "And why exactly do you need to lose weight?" I don't miss the hint of emphasis and mocking on the word need.
"Have you seen me?" I snap before quickly steeling myself over, shaking my head. "I need to fit into a wedding dress."
He nods, frown still in place as he sits back up and picks up a pen, jotting some things down on a piece of paper. "Alright, what size is the dress?"
"I don't know," I state, getting annoyed at this little interrogation going on.
His eyes dart up at me from the piece of paper. "What do you mean you don't know?"
"I mean I haven't bought the dress yet!" I snap.
Those dark, thick brows pinch together further. "Then how can you not fit into it?"
"Because I just can't!" I growl in frustration, swiping a hand down my face.
He continues to stare at me in confusion. "Why? There are tons of dresses that will fit you perfectly."
I shake my head. "Look, I just need to get back to the weight I was before."
"Before what, exactly?" he asks, making me blanch.
"Before... before nothing," I stutter, refusing to meet his gaze, feeling way more uncomfortable than I was a minute ago.
I hardly ever talk about the accident, wanting to keep it buried in the past, and I'm definitely not about to talk to him about it—not when I never had anyone to talk about it with in the first place. Eli became distant after the accident, along with my parents, so I never had anyone to talk to. But I guess maybe I didn't want to talk about it, anyway. And I'm sure as hell not going to start talking about it with Rhodes.
Some days the accident feels like a lifetime ago, and other days it feels like it was just yesterday. I've learned to push it aside, though, compartmentalize it, but the memories always loom over my head like a constant rain cloud, threatening to pour down at any moment and drown me.
Rhodes's face falls somber, and his voice is surprisingly soft, empathetic. "I can tell by your face it wasn't nothing."
"I–" I swallow past the lump in my throat, fighting off the flashbacks that threaten to strike through my head like lightning. "It doesn't matter," I mutter, shaking my head.
Rhodes's mouth opens and closes, his eyes intently assessing me. His jaw ticks, and I can tell he's struggling to bite back a slew of questions, and thankfully he manages.
I clear my throat in the strained silence, trying to get us back on track. "I need to lose forty-two pounds."
I don't miss the way his eyebrows jump in surprise. "That's an oddly specific number."
I shoot him a warning glare and he puts both of his hands up in surrender. "Alright," he says, jotting some more things down on his notes. "And when's the wedding?" he asks, unknowingly stabbing and twisting another knife into my stomach.
I cross my arms, shrinking further into the chair, into myself. "I don't know that either," I grumble.
He does that thing again, clinching his jaw in attempt to refrain from asking me more questions.
He stiffly nods before reaching across his desk and grabbing a calculator. His eyes flick over my chart and he starts punching in some numbers, writing them down.
I frown. "What are you doing?"
"Making a plan," he says, still crunching numbers. "What's your been diet like?" he asks casually, still immersed in whatever he's calculating.
If possible, I shrink even further into myself, my cheeks heating up in embarrassment at his simple question. "I don't know, three meals a day. Yogurt, fruit, grilled chicken, veggies," I lie, too embarrassed to admit that my diet has consisted of a lot of snacking instead of actual meals and frozen food the past year.
He makes an absentminded noise in the back of his throat, his nose still buried in his calculator. When he's finish, he hits the equal sign with a punch of his index finger and jots the final number down.
Reaching down to grab something from the bottom drawer of his desk, he emerges with a notebook. He flips it open to the first page, jotting down some things before handing it over to me.
"What's this?" I ask, scanning what he wrote down.
"It's a food journal," he informs. "I've crunched some numbers based on your height, current weight, and goal weight to calculate how many calories and how much protein you should be eating a day to lose weight. I want you to take note of what you're eating so that way you don't over or under eat."
"You what?" I squawk, absolutely mortified he knows how much I weigh.
On my first day with Victoria, she took my measurements for my file to track my progress, and I didn't even realize Rhodes would now have access to it.
"I've figured out how much you need to eat to lose weight but maintain muscle," he reiterates, missing the point. "I even have some recipes for meals if you need some ideas." He pulls out a sheet of paper from his drawer that lists a dozen recipes, handing it over to me.
I just stare at the paper, dumbfounded and still humiliated.
Rhodes sets the paper down in front of me. "This is going to work, Claire," he assures. "Trust me. Be sure to stick to the nutrition plan and meet me here five days a week and we'll get you to where you want to be."
I close my eyes and count to three, wondering if I should even go through with this, letting Rhodes be my trainer.
If I walk away right now, I fear that I won't be able to find another trainer or another gym in the next few weeks. It's the middle of summer so I know trainers are going to be all booked up, and not to mention getting out of a brand new gym membership is a pain in the ass. I definitely can't afford two gym memberships right now, not to mention signing up at a new gym means Eli would have to drive out of his way to drop me off. Plus, switching gyms will just lead him to asking questions.
Overall, my biggest concern is Eli. Because if he knew I was training with Rhodes he would lose it.
But it looks like Rhodes is my best option right now, and as much as I hate it, I think I need him. I don't think I can lose the weight by myself, without a trainer, and Victoria should be back in no time, right? I think I can put up with him for the next few weeks.
But Eli...
My stomach twists with guilt and anxiety at the thought of working with his rival behind his back. But ultimately I'm doing this for him, and to get our life together back... So I guess what he doesn't know won't kill him.
I let out a deep breath, having my mind made up, nodding. "Okay," I agree, standing from the chair, itching to get out of his office, the tiny room suffocating. "So can we get this workout started?"
Rhodes huffs out a laugh. "I don't think so. I have to be out of here in about ten minutes."
"Excuse me?" I argue, appalled. "I'm literally paying you to train me every day for an hour."
He has the audacity to laugh at me again. "Yeah, and maybe if you hadn't argued with me and gone rouge we could have squeezed an actual session in, but you were too stubborn to let me train you so..." he says, practically amused.
Instinctively, my eyes dart to the clock on the wall above his head before double checking the one on my wrist, realizing my session is basically expired.
I scowl at him. "I hate you."
He smirks, clicking his pen closed and setting it on top of his notes before lacing his fingers behind his head. "You're feisty. I like that."
I curse at him under my breath, crossing my arms over my chest, unamused.
His smirk deepens, and his chair squeaks as his gets up, crossing the room to lean his shoulder against the wall next to the door. "Save that spark for tomorrow," he muses.
I scoff, brushing past him and out of his office, hearing his deep chuckle behind me.
Walking out into the gym, I look through the big glass front doors to see Eli's truck already pulled up to the curb, making my heart jump, especially when I hear Rhodes's footsteps behind me.
I skid to a stop, quickly turning on my heel, running smack dab into Rhodes. Placing my hands on his firm chest, I hastily push him back into his office, determined not to let Eli see him.
"Uhh?" Rhodes hums out, one dark brow quirked up in question. His dark eyes shift down to my hands still on his chest, and I quickly remove them, taking a step back.
"Eli's out there!" I hiss, anxious.
His face smooths over in realization. "What, I can't go out there and say hi to my bestie?" he teases.
"No!" I say sharply. "He cannot see you," I whisper shout, punctuating each word.
Rhodes's lips purse in a firm line, something like annoyance but understanding crossing his face. "Trust me, Claire, I don't want to see him as much as he doesn't want to see me," he assures.
Relief washes over me. "Okay. Well... I guess I'll see you tomorrow," I say, awkwardly walking back out of his office again, and thankfully he stays put.
I head out of the gym and into Eli's truck, the guilt of working with Rhodes threatening to eat me alive—especially in Eli's presence.
But this is for him and for me, I try to remind myself, hoping it'll eventually ebb some of the guilt.
I guess right now all I can only count down the days until Victoria returns and pray that Eli doesn't find out that Rhodes has temporarily taken her place...
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Oh, Claire, relax. I promise it won't be that bad working with Rhodes... ;)