Nudging her to a free bench space and kneeling down beside her, I reached out my hand to cup Giselle’s knee, feeling for the beat of her pulse there.
It took a moment for it to slow down, adrenaline still being released into her bloodstream, but her heart was no longer rapidly beating like a hummingbird’s wings and colour had returned to her face.
Thank fuck.
She told me she was fine, but I didn’t really believe her. Who would after she’d almost smashed her pretty face into the flooring of the gym? Did she think I couldn’t see the way herhands shook as she lifted my water bottle to her lips and took a sip?
I wanted to stay longer, to make sure Giselle wouldn’t faint as soon as she stood up, but my next personal training client, Louisa, was due any second and—
“Am I interrupting something?”
For fucks sake—
I closed my eyes to avoid rolling them, vaguely hearing the thinly veiled sarcasm that dripped from Louisa’s tone.
Before I knew what was really happening, Giselle was standing to her full height and thrusting my now empty water bottle back into my chest.
“Thanks for the water,” she’d said, her voice suspiciously even and devoid of any emotion. “Enjoy your training session.”
Watching Giselle flounce off, arse bouncing, I raised my hand to rub at the stubble coating my jawline and to hide the growing smile stretching across my lips.
The pretty little thing was jealous but desperately trying to hide it.
But she couldn’t fool me.
“Hudson?” Louisa had tried to regain my attention, her long nails grazing the bare flesh of my bicep.
I didn’t want to deal with her, but she was paying for my time to train her, so I had no choice but to suck it up even though everything inside me was screaming to follow Giselle.
That hour and a half training Louisa was hell; neither my heart nor my mind was in it. I couldn’t concentrate, I keep track of how many repetitions Louisa had completed, or which piece of gym equipment we should use next based on her fitness goals that she’d laid out for me the very first time we’d met.
When it was finally over, I sidestepped out of the way before Louisa could hug me goodbye and booked it down the corridor to Giselle’s dance studio.
I knocked on the solid wood, glancing down at my feet while I waited for her to rip open the door, but Giselle never answered. When I peered through the window, I found the lights weren’t on inside either.
She must have gone straight home.
Disappointment ricocheted through me, but I shook it off. It didn’t matter. I would see Giselle tomorrow and make sure she was okay.
Except, tomorrow never came.
I didn’t see Giselle at all on Thursday, nor on Friday.
It’s Saturday afternoon now and I feel more stewed up than I have in a long time.
Honestly – I’m confused. What the fuck is Giselle playing at? Is she avoiding me? Or has she taken Thursday and Friday off work because of her accident in the weightlifting area? Is she banged up and bruised?
I wish I knew, but I don’t have her number to text her, and I haven’t spotted Rosie around either to ask her for Giselle’s mobile digits.
Hopefully tonight’s tattoo session at the parlour, which I’ve had booked in for months now, will be just the thing to help me wind down because these past three weeks, hitting the gym and the bar haven’t been cutting it.
I can’t seem to get a particular girl, with jet black hair and the body of a Greek goddess, off my mind.
A silver bell jingles as I shove open the door to the familiar parlour, stomping my feet on the non-slip mat to shake off the rest of the snowy slush ingrained into the soles of my shoes. Winter has yet to lose its hold on London, so even though January is almost over, we’ve still been seeing the odd flurry of snow frothing from the above, bringing with it the dreary, seemingly never-ending cloud of February closer with each passing day.
Rubbing my hands together to create some heat, I make my way over to the front desk, and smile down at the woman watching me from over the large computer monitor.
“I still find it super weird to see you smile,” she says as way of greeting.
