I come up blank to that one.
I text Kris just as I see the London Underground sign ahead of me.
Kris drops the eye roll emoji before her following reply.
Chapter Ten
Giles
“Ithink you’re nearly ready for a posing lesson,” I say as I re-rack the bar and weights Marcello was just bench-pressing.
“I’m sorry, aposinglesson?”
I smile. “Yes, to really show off these new gains of yours.” I lightly squeeze Marcello’s biceps as he lies back looking up at me. I pretend not to notice how warm and smooth the skin of his upper arms is. I pretend not to marvel at how that little patch of hairless skin is just as tempting as the inches covered in dark hair. Just like I pretend not to notice how much I like his eyes, his smile and the clench of his jaw when he’s mid-rep, despite my telling him to keep his jaw loose and teeth unclenched.
I’ve been doing a lot of pretending this last week.
Marcello sits up. “You know, I didn’t know if I was imagining it,” he stretches out his arms and twists them around, noticing the little dips of his triceps, “but if you’re saying you’ve noticed it then maybe there really is a bit more definition.”
“I am noticing it,” I say but deliberately take my eyes off him. “You’re making excellent progress.”
“I am with the gym. Shame I can’t say the same about running. Or swimming. And I don’t even have a bike yet so I can’t even claim to be making any progress there.”
“If you’ll excuse the pun, running is a marathon not a sprint. You’ll get there. You just need to stick to it. And swimming,” I wince, “that’s not my area of expertise, I’m afraid but I’m sure you could get a swimming coach to get you on the right track.”
“I think you mean, in the right lane.” Marcello winks at me. He drops his arms. “I really need to get that bike though and find out if I can still remember how to ride one.”
“Are you going to buy one?”
“Yeah. Second-hand. I’ve found a few online but I’m struggling to know what’s really worth it. Even used, they’re not cheap.”
“Are there any local to you? Maybe you could go test some out before you buy.”
“They’re all over the city. But I suppose I could get a shortlist together and try some out.”
“I could help. I mean, I could come with you,” I clarify. “I don’t know much about bikes but I like to think I have a good radar for when someone is trying to rip someone off. My dad always drove a hard bargain and would say that spotting tricksters a mile off is in my Scottish blood.”
“You’re Scottish?”
“Yes, on both sides. But I grew up in Reading where my parents met at university and settled.”
“That’s pretty romantic.”
“You’ve obviously never been to Reading,” I say and it feels like a reward when he laughs at my joke.
“That would be great. If you came with me,” Marcello stands and his expression changes. “But honestly, you don’t have to. You’re already doing so much. These training sessions. Running together at the weekend. You don’t have to do this as well.”
I’m about to tell him that I don’t mind. That I want to. But suddenly that feels like… too much. I’m being too much.
“Why don’t you set something up and let me know when you’re supposed to head there and if I can make it, I will.”
“Okay, sounds good.”
I glance at my watch, the silver one that used to belong to my dad, and note the time.
“I’m going to hit the showers and head back to work,” I say. “Can’t be late today.
