Priest (A Standalone Bad Boy Romance Love Story)

by Claire Adams

  I arrived at the end of the street and on the far side of the gym. I saw Mark getting out of his sleek black Camaro. I waited out of sight until I saw him disappear inside. I’d asked Jeff and Sam to take over his sessions. For some reason he had gone from Mr. Polite and Respectful to a horn dog in a matter of weeks it seemed. Maybe he broke up with his girlfriend or something…I had no idea. I also had no desire to go out with him, and even less to have to tell him no every single day. Since Paul hadn’t been around for a week, he seemed to be getting more determined.

  I slipped into the front door and clocked in. Debbie was at the desk. “Hey girl! You look all fresh and pink-cheeked. Are you having a good morning?”

  I smiled at her and said, “Average at best. The pink cheeks are from walking here.”

  “Oh you should have called me. I would have picked you up.”

  “It’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with my car. I just felt like walking. I needed to work off some frustration.”

  “Sexual…I hope?” I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Mark’s voice.

  Before I had a chance to say anything Debbie said, “Knock off the sexually harassing comments Mark or I’ll have Sam show you the door.”

  Mark held up his hands, palms up. “Hey ladies, you know I was just kidding. I’m sorry, Jessie. I thought we were friends.” I ignored him and Debbie continued to glare until he went back out onto the floor and continued his workout.

  “Thanks,” I told her.

  “Hey girl, we’ve got your back. Quit trying to handle everything all alone.”

  “Everything?” Debbie sounded like she knew something that I hadn’t told her.

  “Victoria told me that she noticed you and Paul were getting close…now Sam said he hasn’t been around at all and he wasn’t even sure if he’s going to show up for his fight Friday night. I didn’t want to say anything because you haven’t, but I’ve been worried about you. Men can be such assholes sometimes. I know you keep your business close to your chest honey and I don’t mean to pry. I just want to make sure that you’re okay.”

  She was right, I hated for people to know my personal business, but it was nice to have friends who had your back. “I’m good. But thank you,” I told her. That was enough information. They could guess about the rest of it if they wanted to.

  “Just remember I’m here…we all are, if you need anything.”

  I knew she was more than just nosy. She was sincere and the people I worked for and with were the kind of people I needed in my life. I needed to work a little harder on cultivating those relationships. I thanked her again and went in the back to change my sweaty tank. After I got the washer fixed I left some clean ones in my locker, just in case.

  By the time I was changed and wearing fresh deodorant my client, Justin had arrived. Justin’s twenty-four and he’s been running marathons since he was a kid. The advantage of that is of course that he knows his body by now and what it can do and what he needs to do to improve it. The disadvantage is that by the young age of twenty-four, his body has already gone through hell and back and since he wasn’t ready to retire, it was headed for more. Luckily for Justin he’s smart and he knows how important proper training is to keep him from dropping dead in the last stretch of a 30K run.

  “Hi Justin!”

  “Hi Jessie, how are you?” Justin was on the mat stretching. He has one of those long, lean runners body’s. It’s lean muscle though, when he stretches or tenses, every visible muscle in his body becomes perfectly defined.

  “I’m good. How about you?” He stood up straight and started stretching out his neck. He was taller than your average marathon runner. Most of the guys I’ve trained for marathons weren’t much taller than five seven or eight and weighed one-forty soaking wet. Justin was close to six feet and I’d be willing to bet he weighed in at one seventy five. That was okay though because like I said, he knows his body. He knows where he needs to push and today he was here to work on his quads. In a 30K race he was going to need more than speed and stamina on a cellular level. He was going to need a sturdy frame to hold him up.

  “Good,” he said, now stretching out in lunges. “Do you run, Jessie?”

  “Just for fun,” I told him. “I’ve never gone so far as to enter a marathon.”

  “You should try it. It’s really a lot of fun. It gives you this free feeling that you can’t describe, you have to experience. You have a runner’s body you know?”

  “Yeah, I guess,” I didn’t want to discuss my body with him, even if it was a harmless discussion. “Are you ready to get started?” I could tell by the look on his face that he got it…I wanted this to be strictly business.

  “I’m ready,” he said.

  “So tell me what you’ve been doing for your quads.”

  “Mostly sprints and squats.” I nodded, that was a good start.

  “That’s good, but let me tell you the best way to train your body. The best way to train is to work through functional exercise. Do you know what that is?”

  “Sort of,” he said.

  “Well let me re-iterate it for you,” I told him with a smile. I’m fresh out of college. I like reciting the book stuff sometimes. “Functional exercise is any workout that imitates the movements that you perform every day when you’re at home or work…anywhere, really. When you climb a flight of stairs or just step up onto your porch at home or step up into your lifted pick-up…”

  “How did you know I have a lifted pick-up?”

  “Had you pegged for the type,” I told him. “As I was saying…Anytime you do those things you are more or less doing the same movement you do when you do step-ups here in the gym. Of course the step-ups are more exaggerated, but they’re the same. Make sense?”

  He grinned, “You’re telling me I’m going to do step-ups, right?”

  His smile was infectious. It was big and toothy and his blue eyes shone when he did it. I felt compelled to smile back. “Yes Justin, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.” I took him over to where I had the step bench set up and we started with just the barbell. I had him do a few reps just to get his form down. “Step up and use that leg in front to propel yourself up. Bring your back foot up and raise your knee up as high as you can. Good. Now, while you’re keeping the tension on that front leg, step that other foot back down. Good. Now we add weight.”

  We ran through a few sets of those, increasing the weight as we went along. Justin didn’t complain at all even though I knew by the final set or two his legs had to be on fire. When we finished, I had him walk it off for a bit and get some water. After about ten minutes of cooling down we moved on to barbell lunges.

  “Okay,” I told him, “Same premise but instead of step-ups, we’ll be doing lunges.”

  “We’ll?” he said with a laugh.

  “I pay my dues,” I told him with a laugh. “Okay, same thing, empty barbell first with one foot forward, the other back, both knees bent. Keep that forward foot parallel to the floor and don’t let that back knee touch the ground.” On this one as we added weight I could see him getting tired. I had to remind him a few times to pick his knee up and keep it off the floor. When he finished I said, “Good, walk it off and get some more water.”

  He did and when he came back he said, “So Jessie, do you like Need to Breathe?”

  I looked at him strangely. I was thinking “stalker.” How did he know that? I love that band…but how did he know? Was hanging out with Paul making me paranoid all of a sudden?

  “Um…why do you ask?” I said.

  He laughed, “Are you always so suspicious? You look like you just found the shrine of you I keep in my locker.” My eyes must have gotten bigger because he winked and laughed and said, “I’m kidding, Jessie. I asked about the band because they’re playing at The Greek Theatre tonight and I have two tickets.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  “You have two tickets and the concert’s tonight and you don’t already have a d
ate to go with? Why not?”

  “I was trying to work my nerve up to ask you.” Again, he had to say, “I’m kidding! I have two tickets, the concert is tonight and my buddy who was going with me cancelled last night because his girlfriend apparently objected to him going out with me…I can’t understand it. I’m a really great guy.”

  It was my turn to laugh. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually so paranoid. It’s been a weird couple of weeks. But I do see we’ll need to work on that ego too while you’re here. Need to Breathe huh? Wow…I actually love them.”

  “We can make a night of it. The concert starts at eight. I can pick you up at six and we can have dinner first…”

  “I’ll think about it,” I said. Why hadn’t I just said no? The last thing I needed was more complication in my life. “Squats now.”

  “Ah, my favorite form of torture.”

  I smiled, “Mine too.”

  He picked up the barbell and said, “Front or back?” Sometimes squats are done with the weights on the shoulders and sometimes with them held in front of the chest.

  “Both,” I told him.

  “You do like this torture,” he said. I had him start with it in front. While he was working I was running all of the reasons why I shouldn’t go out with this guy through my mind. He was a client, I was physically attracted to him so time alone in close quarters might be dangerous…and most of all, he wasn’t Paul. What if Paul came back tomorrow? Would he even care that I’d gone out with another guy? What if I turned down Justin and sat around and waited for Paul…and he never came back. Shit! I went over the reasons I should go then. I had no idea if Paul would ever be back. Paul and I hadn’t gotten to the point of being in a committed relationship even if he did come back. Justin was really cute. He had blonde hair and blue eyes and that wholesome boy-next-door look to him. I absolutely loved Need to Breathe…And the final reason I should: At the very least, going out with this guy would get my mom off my back about my ex…maybe.

  By the time he was finished with the entire exercise, he was whooped. He got some water and walked around on the mats a bit before picking up his towel and wiping the sweat off his face. “So?” he said when he finished.

  “So what?” I asked.

  Shaking his head he said, “I think you’re into more than one kind of torture. So how about tonight?”

  “I guess…it might be fun.”

  “Wow, curb the enthusiasm.” Another good reason for going, he made me laugh. It was something I needed these days. There was nothing wrong with just going out as friends.

  “I’m sorry,” I told him, “I meant to say I’d love to go.”

  “Much better, but by the time I pick you up can you work on your inflection a little more? Put some real feeling into it for me?”

  I laughed again. “I’ll do my best.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  While I finished my day at work I thought a hundred different times about calling Justin and cancelling. He had left me his number. I shouldn’t do this. I was still screwed up over Paul. I knew I was being ridiculous…Paul and I slept together a couple of times and we had shared some pretty personal stuff…but that didn’t constitute a relationship just yet…and I knew that, rationally. My heart however was telling me that I should give him the benefit of the doubt. He would be back and with that in mind, I should be loyal. I had to believe he really liked me. He had shared a lot with me about his life. I think a lot more than he chose to share with most people.

  I walked back home slowly, batting the pros and cons back and forth in my head as I did. The pros won out today and I convinced myself that since it was just dinner and a concert it didn’t have to be a date. It really could just be two friends hanging out like I said. After all, I wasn’t going to sleep with this guy tonight. Not that if I’d met him at a different time….Justin is a really hot guy. But once again, he’s not Paul.

  “Hey baby,” my mother and roommate greeted me as I walked in the door.

  “Hi Mom.”

  “How was the day?”

  “It was good. How was yours?”

  “I filled out a few applications online,” she told me, obviously proud of herself.

  “Wow Mom, that’s great. Where did you apply?”

  “Some restaurants,” she said, vaguely. I had no idea if she was really applying for jobs. She told me she did every day, but I couldn’t very well check out all of her stories. Besides, she probably wouldn’t stay single for long anyways and then she’d be someone else’s problem for a while. I know that was a terrible way to think of it, but she was my mother and this is who she is.

  “Good for you,” I told her, trying my best to sound encouraging. “Speaking of restaurants, would you like me to order something in for you tonight? I’m going out for a while.”

  “Going out? With who? Is this the mystery man…?”

  Rolling my eyes I said, “It’s no mystery, mom. We’re going to dinner and a concert.”

  “What’s his name?”

  I sighed, “Justin.”

  “Justin?”

  “Not that one, Mom. This Justin is not a drug dealer. Now, where do you want me to order in from for you?”

  “Where is he taking you?”

  “I told you, dinner and a concert.”

  “Where are you going to dinner? Where a man chooses to take you says a lot about him.”

  “I wish you would have told me that years ago, Mother. That way when my last boyfriend took to Compton with him and we had dinner at his “connections” home…if you could even call it that, I may have gotten a little suspicious.”

  “I was trying to make conversation. How did you get so sarcastic?”

  “I’m sorry. You’re right, Mom. I don’t want to fight. You decide what you want for dinner while I take a shower and I’ll call it in for you before I go.”

  I went into my room, joyously closing her out. She could ruin my peace quicker than anyone else I knew. I’m sure it’s just because I spent the bulk of my life wishing I had a “normal” mother like everyone else and I still harbor just a little bit of resentment towards her because of that. I shook off my annoyance at her and picked out a new pair of jeans and a nice sleeveless green blouse that I’d bought with them. I took my shower and while I was blow-drying my hair, my mom knocked on the door.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m not really hungry yet, honey. Maybe you can just leave me twenty bucks for a pizza?”

  I hated leaving her cash. It was like having PTSD. My mind went back to the days that any cash she got her hands on…even if it came from her daughter’s wallet went for drugs or alcohol. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that so far, the time she’d been here she had seemed sober. I couldn’t watch her like a hawk twenty-four seven. I was going to have to trust her.

  “Okay, Mom. That’s fine,” I told her. I finished drying my hair and then I straightened it. I put on a little make-up, some liner and mascara to bring out my pale eyelashes and a little powder to color the bright white of my skin. I wore a pair of short boots that just covered the bottom of my jeans. When I finished, I took one last look…I didn’t look too bad.

  When I walked out into the living room my mom said, “Oh my God Jessie! You are gorgeous, baby!”

  “Thanks Mom,” I told her. The compliment was sweet, but there was that trust factor again. I never really knew when to take her seriously. I really wish that we had a “normal” mother/daughter relationship, but the fact was that we don’t. I had to learn to deal with it. I went over to my purse and took out a twenty and a ten. I left them on the table and told her to order what she wanted.

  “Thank you, baby. I hate asking you for money for every little thing. I’m gonna pay you all of this back just as soon as I can.”

  “I’m not worried about it, Mom. I just want to help you get back on your feet.” That was true. I did want to see her do well. It was just hard after all of the failures to believe it was ever going to happen.

  The doorbell
rang then and I saw her run her fingers through her hair and smack her lips a little. Some things never changed, she was always “on” for a man. I opened the door and Justin was standing there in a blue denim shirt unbuttoned just enough at the top so it showed a little

  chest but not so much that he looked like a bouncer called Tony. His jeans fit him nicely and I had to tell myself not to gawk.

  “Hi.”

  “Hey,” he said with that smile that made you want to just eat him up with a spoon. “You look really…really nice.”

  “Thanks, you too. Come in, I just have to grab my purse.” He stepped inside and I said, “Justin this is my mom, Lynn.”

  Mom tossed her hair back over her shoulder and smiled. I could tell that she thought he was good-looking without her saying a word. I’m sure that he could too. She was looking at him like she was about to pounce. “I’m so pleased to meet you, Justin.”

  “Nice to meet you too,” he said, shaking the hand she extended.

  “Why don’t you have a seat here with me while Jessie gets her things together?”

  “No things, Mom. Just my purse.”

  “So what do you do, Justin?”

  “I got it…we can go now.” Poor Justin was torn. The gentleman in him wanted to sit down with her, I could tell. He just had no idea what he was getting into. If he sat down, she would know exactly how much not only he but both of his parents made last year inside of five minutes.

  “Maybe we can talk another time, Lynn?”

  “I would love that,” she said. “My daughter is a fabulous cook. Maybe next time you can have dinner here with us?”

  “That sounds great,” he said with a wink in my direction.

  “Okay Mom, lock the door behind us and have a good night.”

  “You kids be good,” Mom said. It was a comment riddled with undertones. Just as I was headed out the door she whispered, “He’s hot, baby.”

  All I could do was hope that he didn’t hear her. I should be used to her embarrassing me by now, but maybe it was a thing a person never really got used to. I was surprised when he led me out to a gray Honda. Thinking he was joking I looked around the parking lot for that lifted four-wheel drive truck.