Personal Trainer

by Mia Carson

  “No… no, I think we figured out the problem,” he told her quietly. He fiddled with his beer bottle, rolling the end around on the kitchen table, watching the rings left by the condensation. “I’m fine, I promise.”

  “You can’t hide from me. I’m your mother,” she reminded him with a laugh and set down a plate of apple pie for him. “And you barely touched anything at dinner.”

  “I'm not hungry,” he said and pushed the pie away. Sally huffed and leaned back in her chair, kicking his shin hard with her boot. “Ow, what?” he grumbled. “I said I was fine.”

  She kicked him again and he flinched. “It’s a woman.”

  “I never said anything,” he said and reached down to rub his shin. When she jumped up from her chair, he couldn’t help but grin. His mom was a bit on the crazier side, did what she wanted when she wanted, never listened to anybody, not even his dad. “Mom? What are you doing?”

  “It’s about time you found yourself a girl to drive you crazy,” she called back from the hall and hurried back down a few minutes later, his cell phone in her hand. “What’s her name? I want to meet her.”

  He cursed and leapt up for his phone, but she held it out of reach. “You can’t call her,” he argued and reached for it again. His mom barely reached his shoulders, but the glare she shot him made him feel ten times smaller.

  “Why not? Are you ashamed of this woman? She’s not one of your weekend flings, is she?”

  “What? No, none of them,” he said, and when she raised a brow, he sighed. “She works with me, alright? Can I have that back now?”

  Sally smirked and tossed him his cell. “Why won’t you let me meet her?”

  “We’re not really together yet,” he admitted and held his cell tightly in his hands. He’d tried calling her last night, but she didn’t answer and he’d been too much of a coward to leave a message. He didn’t even know what to say, had no idea what had happened. It wasn’t like he did anything wrong. They both wanted to be together, and she freaked out for no reason.

  “Or you’re trying to be and you pushed, didn’t you? So impatient,” Sally mused and tugged on his beard, dragging his face down to her level. “A trait you inherited from your dad.”

  “Yeah, well, I got your stubbornness and temper to match,” he muttered, and she let him go. “And I wasn’t pushing. Things just got out of hand very quickly.”

  “So call her and ask her to dinner,” she said. “Explain yourself and take it slowly.”

  Greyson ran his hand over his head and leaned against the kitchen island. “I'm not sure how to do that. She’s under my skin, and I don’t know what to do about it. She’s driving me crazy! I can’t think straight, I haven’t slept, and all I think about is her.”

  Sally laughed and pointed to his cell. “You’re scared after the last one.”

  “No,” he bit off bitterly then blew out a breath and shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. I’m lost with Belle in the picture.”

  “Belle,” Sally repeated quietly. “I like the name.”

  “You’d like more than just that,” he said and grinned. “She’s a spitfire. Reminds me a lot of myself, actually.”

  Sally patted his cheek and lifted his hand with his cell again. “You’re falling for this girl; I see it in your eyes. What are you waiting for? Everything to make sense?”

  He unlocked his cell and found her number, his thumb hovering over it. Was he ready for the storm they made together? He wasn’t kidding when he said his anger rivaled hers. Same with the stubbornness that reared its ugly head in both of them. She was just like him in every way, but thinking of the coming days without her at the office, without talking to her, or hearing her laugh… His thumb hit the button, and his mom squealed in delight.

  Greyson frowned and ducked out of the kitchen as the phone rang on the other end. When it went to her voicemail again, he rubbed his forehead and gritted his teeth when the time came to leave a message. “Belle, it’s Greyson. Look, I know things are a little crazy, but can you please give me a chance, or us a chance? I’ll text you my address, and if you want, come over tomorrow night for dinner. Just to talk and figure out what this is, but whatever it is, I want to be with you,” he added and cursed quietly. “Uh… That’s it, call me back.”

  He hung up and sagged against the wall. “Idiot. I’m an idiot,” he grumbled, and his mom laughed from the doorway.

  “Yes, you are, but I love you anyway,” she teased. “It’ll work out, you’ll see.”

  “I hope so,” he whispered and tucked his cell away. “Think I’ll have that pie now.”

  She grinned. He sat with his mom the rest of the evening at her small, stucco ranch sitting on thirty acres of open land. They used to live in the city, but when his dad passed, his mom moved out of their old, stuffy mansion. She said she needed to breathe in the fresh air and watch the sunsets and sunrises without hearing the noise of cars rushing by. He worried for her in the beginning, out here alone, but his mom was tough and she looked better than she had in years. Her all-white hair was braided and tossed casually over her shoulder, and her wrinkles were hardly visible on her weathered face. Sally was happy, and that was all that mattered to Greyson.

  He was getting ready to leave a few hours later when his cell vibrated and he hesitated.

  “Is it her?” Sally asked.

  “Yeah,” he breathed and opened it. “She’s coming over for dinner tomorrow at seven.” He laughed, and his mom hugged him.

  “See? Everything always works out for the best.”

  “Unless she’s already sick of me,” he muttered and texted her back. “We’ll just have to see.”

  Belle couldn’t believe the choice she had made, but Carrie cheered her on, raising her water bottle as they hung out in their dorm together. The gallery opening had gone perfectly, and their boss was ecstatic. Belle told him she might be taking a leave of absence for the rest of the semester, and he’d told her not to worry about it. Her job would always be there.

  “Why aren’t you happier about this?” Carrie asked, flinging a pretzel at her. “This is great!”

  “How is it great? You know what could happen if this goes wrong?”

  Carrie flung another pretzel at her. “So? It’s time you had a little fun, take some risks. Live for once in your life. You’ve earned it.”

  “And what if it goes wrong?” she asked quietly, picturing a relationship with Greyson ending with her quitting and both of them hating each other forever.

  “Then it goes wrong, but no reason you can’t have some fun until it does. Just do it, please, for me?”

  Belle frowned until Carrie flicked another pretzel at her and another. They threw them back and forth, covering the dorm room in pretzels and laughing hysterically. She hadn’t laughed like that in a long time, and her worries about tomorrow night with Greyson shifted to the back of her mind. Carrie was right, as annoying as she might be. What harm could there be in seeing where things went?

  The next evening, Belle stared into the depths of her closet, wondering what she should wear. Her dreams told her exactly how she wanted this night to go, but the rational part of her mind said she was only going to talk their potential relationship over, nothing more. After half an hour, she pulled on black skinny jeans with gray, knee-high boots and a dark gray sweater that hung off her shoulders. She wore her hair up in a loose ponytail, letting the waves trail down her back. She put on some light makeup and all her rings.

  “What do you think?” she asked Carrie, twirling.

  “You look good enough to eat,” her friend teased and wiggled her eyebrows. “He’s going to love it. I won’t wait up.”

  “Whatever, we’re just having dinner and talking,” she insisted as she grabbed her purse and the Mustang keys.

  “Any man who lends a woman his 1975 Mustang is not just wanting to talk,” Carrie warned and waved as Belle exited their dorm room quickly. She was running a few minutes behind, but he lived outside the city limits, so reaching h
is house shouldn’t be too much of a problem.

  She slid behind the wheel of a car she’d never be able to afford and was quickly falling in love with, threw it in reverse, and took off. Her hands trembled against the wheel as she drove, the windows down and the cool evening air running through her hair. It’d be a mess when she got there, but she knew Greyson wouldn’t care. Images of his shirtless body danced through her mind as she drove toward the city limits and stopped at a red light.

  The music played softly on the radio, and she hummed absently along with it. The light turned green, and she shifted, accelerating out into the intersection. She never saw the headlights. The sound of crunching metal filled her ears, and she screamed before she lost consciousness.

  Chapter 8

  He glared at the clock on the wall again as he paced, checking his cell for any messages, but there were none. Greyson shoved his cell in his back pocket and opened the front door to step out onto his porch in the evening air. A few minutes late he wouldn’t have questioned, but it was quarter to eight and Belle had sent no word at all about where she was.

  She might’ve changed her mind and set him up. He grunted and paced on the porch. When tomorrow rolled around, he’d corner her in his office and make her talk to him. He was not letting this woman disappear from his life because she was too hung up on the bad that might happen.

  As he leaned against the wooden post, watching the quiet road outside the gate to his house, he debated texting her and telling her he hoped she was ready for a long talk tomorrow. His cell rang and he picked it up, ready to ask her where the hell she was, but didn’t recognize the number. He almost didn’t answer it, but it could be something for work and he couldn’t ignore those calls.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Greyson Taylor?” a man asked on the other end.

  Someone yelled and there were voices… sirens. Greyson thought about Sally and gripped the phone harder. “Yes, what’s going on?”

  “I’m a paramedic. We’re with your girlfriend, wanted to let you know where we are taking her.”

  “Girlfriend? I don’t have a girlfriend,” he replied slowly, his heart pounding in his chest.

  “She kept muttering your name so you’re who we called. Do you know a Belle Hall?”

  His heart plummeted to the ground. “Yes, I know her. What happened? Where is she?”

  “We’re taking her to St. Joseph’s,” the paramedic said. “Should be there in ten.”

  “What happened?” he asked again. “Is she alright?”

  “She was in a car accident. The Mustang she was driving is totaled—”

  “I don’t care about the fucking car! Is she alright or not?” he yelled, his vision blurring in his rage.

  The paramedic sucked in a breath before responding. “She’s banged up pretty badly, but she’ll live. I suggest you meet us at the hospital and call her family.”

  “She doesn’t have any family, just me,” he replied. “I’ll be there. Tell her I’m on my way.”

  “She’s not conscious, but if she wakes up, we will,” the paramedic said and hung up.

  For a horrible minute, Greyson stood frozen on his porch, his cell to his ear, trying to comprehend what happened. The Mustang was totaled. Belle had been in an accident. His Belle, his spitfire, drive-him-crazy Belle. He sprinted into the house, grabbed his keys and wallet, and ducked out the front door. He reached the hospital faster than he should’ve and barely threw the car into park before he ran into the ER and to the first nurse he found.

  “Belle… Where is she?” he asked, the words fumbling from his mouth. “They said she would be here.”

  “Sir, I need you to take a deep breath,” the nurse said and glanced over a chart in her hand. “Tell me her name. Was she brought here by ambulance?”

  He nodded, tugging on his beard. “They called me, said they would be here. Belle Hall.”

  The nurse glanced down her chart and frowned. “Not here yet. Are you sure they said this hospital?”

  He flattened his palms on the desk, ready to lose it when the ER doors burst open and paramedics rushed a gurney inside. “Young woman… car accident… broken wrist and multiple cuts to her face. Bruising on her abdomen. Vitals look stable, but she’s not conscious.”

  Greyson stepped closer as she passed and his chest tightened. “Belle? That’s my girlfriend! Where are you taking her?”

  “Greyson?” she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

  The nurse rushed forward to calm him, trying to talk to him, but he didn’t hear her. The paramedics tried to talk to Belle again, but she wouldn’t wake up.

  “Let’s move,” one said and pushed her away.

  Greyson tried to follow, but two more nurses rushed over and stopped him. “No, I have to go with them! Where is she going?”

  “Sir, I need you to sit down over there and wait,” the nurse from before told him sternly. “When they know something, they will tell you, but you can’t go with them. They’re going to fix her up, alright? Just sit down and take a deep breath.”

  Greyson let them guide him to a chair, and he sank into it. After he promised he wouldn’t try to go after Belle again, they left him alone. He rested his arms on his knees, his head hanging, and stared in disbelief at the white linoleum tiles. This couldn’t be real. A nightmare, that’s all it was, a horrible nightmare, but he didn’t wake up. The Mustang was totaled. How badly was she hurt if the car was totaled?

  He scrunched his eyes closed, pressing his thumbs against them, and waited. Worry ate at him. All the words he never said to her, admitting how entangled in her he really was, not caring that she was just as crazy stubborn as he was. Wanting her more than any other woman he ever met.

  “Don’t you dare leave me,” he whispered to the empty air. “Don’t you dare.”

  Life without Belle was not a life he wanted, not now when he had found the one woman who accepted him with his faults and flaws and somehow made him less of an ass. Made him care.

  “Mr. Taylor?” a man in scrubs asked what felt like hours later.

  He jumped to his feet. “That’s me. Is she alright?”

  The man patted his shoulder and smiled. “She’s resting comfortably in a recovery room. Her right wrist is broken, she has some stitches on her shoulders from glass, her abdomen is bruised pretty badly, but all in all, she’s damn lucky,” the doctor told him. “Should be ready to leave in a few days.”

  “Can I see her?”

  “You told the paramedics she had no family?” He nodded. “And you’re her boyfriend?”

  Greyson nodded again and smiled. “Yes, I am.”

  “Then you can see her. I’ll show you to her room.”

  He followed the doctor through the sterile halls, ignoring everyone else around him. All he wanted was to see Belle and know she was fine. They reached the door to a room, and the doctor waved him. “She might be groggy at first. Try not to let her talk too much.”

  Numbly, he nodded and stepped into the room. Her face was bruised and scratched from the accident, and her right arm rested on a pillow on top of the covers. He cringed, knowing she had to be in pain, and crept slowly towards her bed, not wanting to wake her but needing to hear her voice. When he reached her bed, he reached out a hand for hers and held it gently.

  “Belle,” he whispered, smoothing her hair back from her face. “Jesus, you look terrible.”

  Her hand tightened subtly on his, and her eyes fluttered. “Thanks for pointing that out, jackass.”

  He sighed in relief and hugged her until she winced and he let go, but she held onto his hand. “I’m sorry, how bad is it?”

  She tried to sit up, her grimace of pain enough to tear at him. “Greyson,” she whispered, and her eyes opened all the way. The blue irises darkened and tears overflowed. “Your car… I’m so sorry, it’s totaled. I can’t pay you back for it. I don’t even remember what happened!”

  “Belle, slow down,” he told her, but she shook her head until s
he cursed in pain.

  “No, it’s my fault. I wrecked it, and I wrecked this, and I have no idea what we’re doing or what I’m doing.”

  He pressed his fingers against her lips to make her stop. “The doctor said not to talk too much,” he stated sternly. “So stop, and don’t you dare blame yourself. It’s just a car. I don’t care about it, but I care a hell of a lot about you.”

  His fingers fell away and she studied his face. “You do?”

  “Yeah, I do,” he said with a laugh. “And it’s my fault this happened, not yours. I shouldn’t have pushed, and you wouldn’t have run away, and there’d be no need for you to come to my place tonight so don’t you dare say anything about it being your fault.”

  “But the car,” she whispered.

  “It’s a car,” he told her again and brushed his lips gently against hers. She wrapped her left hand around his neck and pulled him closer, pressing their foreheads together. “God, I was so scared when they called me.”

  “Why did they call you?” she asked, not letting him move.

  His eyes met hers and he kissed her again. “You kept saying my name, and as of this moment, they think I’m your boyfriend.”

  “Oh,” she said quietly and want sparked in her eyes. “You didn’t correct them?”

  “Why would I? Tonight, I was going to convince you that I could be,” he said, and she laughed a moment before cringing and he sat back.

  “No, don’t leave me,” she whispered and gripped his hand hard. Her eyes glazed over for a minute, and she stared past him. “All I hear is metal screaming and a horn blaring. I don’t… I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

  He sat down beside her on the bed. “I won’t leave you, not while you’re here.”

  She smiled and settled back against the pillows, her eyes closing. “Good, that’s good.”

  “And when you do get out, you’re coming to stay with me so you can be taken care of for once,” he told her, and her eyes shot open again.

  “No, I can’t do that to you,” she argued. “That’s too much, and I’ll be fine on my own, really. I’ll manage. You can’t miss work anyway.”