Page 6

Chapter 6

Giselle

O ver the weekend, I manage to convince myself it’s fine.

Hudson never has to know that I find him attractive, nor that I snooped through his social medias until late into the night or that… I, well, I made myself orgasm by coming up with make belief fantasies of him behind me, one of his hands on my neck, his hands on my breasts, his hands toying with my clit.

And what an orgasm it was.

But he never has to know.

I’m not even sure God himself will be able to pry my secrets from me and that’s the way I’m determined to keep it.

In any case, I come up with the idea of simply avoiding Hudson.

What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him and not catching any glimpses of him will mean it will be impossible to further feed into my fantasy.

Because that’s all it’s going to stay – a fantasy.

However, by Monday afternoon, I’m realising that I thoroughly underestimated my whole ability to avoid Hudson Millen.

He appears to be fucking everywhere that I am.

And I can’t stop my traitorous self from noticing that fact.

“I can’t blame them,” Rosie says to me while she wipes a dumbbell down with a bottle of antibacterial spray and a microfibre cloth. “I’d take a ride too if he asked me… but the whole congregating round isn’t as inconspicuous as they think.”

Trying to appear as nonchalantly as possible, I peer over my shoulder at the group of mainly women, and even a couple of men, who Rosie is referring too. Each of them wearing the tightest fitting sports bra they own, some are hardly wearing anything at all, and all of them are hanging about in this section of the gym in an attempt to catch the attention of a certain dark haired personal trainer.

To be fair to him, Hudson is completely focused on his client, keeping an eye on the rotation of their joints as he asks them to squat lower. But he’d be a fool if he hasn’t noticed the lingering stares and or can’t feel them piercing his back.

Maybe even a few of them have approached him.

Who am I kidding, of course people will have approached him!

I mean, just look at the man!

And I don’t think it’s to ask if he has any available slots left in his personal training programme.

Unless the personal training programme comes with his phone number, a date and a few hours romp in the sheets.

Although, I’m one to talk, after what I got up to last Thursday night.

“Why are your cheeks turning red?” Rosie demands of me, pulling my attention back to my friend in front of me.

I press my palms to my so-called red cheeks. “They’re not!”

“Um, they are,” Rosie argues with a playful smile about her lips. She glances behind me and then back. “Is it because you finally want to take Hudson for a ride too? Get rid of that celibacy ring and—”

“Rosie!”

“What?” She straightens up and plants her hands on her hips. “Are you saying you don’t find him attractive, because if you are, I’ve got to ask if you need to go and get your eyes checked. Seriously, that man is on another level, Gee.”

“I don’t need to go get my fucking eyes checked, of course I think he’s attractive.” I gesture to the space around us. “So do all of these other people who are hanging around trying to grab his attention! But just because someone’s attractive doesn’t mean they’re a good person on the inside and I’ve worked too hard on myself to just throw away my celibacy without knowing anything about the man! Even if I can admit he’s the most attractive guy I’ve ever—”

“Who’d you find attractive?”

How the fuck did I not hear him sneaking up behind me?

A hand grazes my lower back and I just have time to turn my head before the man of the hour, the star of my fantasies and probably the fantasy of every other person in the gym, including Rosie, is standing beside me.

I feel my features school into a scowl. “I don’t appreciate being snuck up on. Nor do I appreciate you listening in on our private conversation.”

Hudson’s green eyes flash with mirth. “I wouldn’t exactly call it listening in if you’re having the conversation in a public place, Giselle.”

My name spills from his lips in a way that has my pulse racing irrationally for a split second, making me forget why he’s even using my name in the first place, but then—

“Don’t be a little shit,” I hear myself snarl, but it lacks any real bite.

Hudson stares at me and then he throws his head back and laughs, loudly, making the column of his throat bob.

It’s impossible for me to pull my eyesight away.

What the fuck is going on with me?

Out of my peripheral vision, I spot a few people looking our way; some in interest at what Hudson’s laughing so loudly about and others in thinly veiled jealously that I’m the one who made the hottest man in this entire gym, belly laugh.

Even Rosie’s eyes are ping-ponging between us, trying to read between the lines.

“Ah man,” Hudson huffs breathlessly, clutching his abdomen with both hands. “I bloody needed that laugh.”

A hint of embarrassment creeps in making my skin crawl.

“I’m sorry Hudson, I didn’t mean—”

“You’re fine.” He laughs again. This infectious, joyous sound that takes up half the room. I can’t say I mind. “I am a little shit, much to my mother’s exasperation.”

“Right.” I swallow, still wishing I hadn’t opened my mouth and allowed my snap back to fall off my tongue quite so quickly. “Still, I’m—”

“Seriously, Giselle, it’s fine.” Those glittering green eyes of his bore into mine, making the space around us heat up a few degrees. “I’m giving you permission to put me into place any time you want. I’ll happily comply.”

Any thought I had floating about my brain is simply blown to dust by Hudson’s comment.

He’s fucking flirting with me.

Again.

And my body is reacting to it.

Again.

Fucking hell…

Rosie brushes a patch of her elbow along mine, nudging me in the subtlest way she knows how, to let me know that she just heard Hudson’s comment too.

I bet her face is a picture, but I don’t look to see if I’m correct. I can’t.

I can’t physically make myself look away from Hudson.

Or the challenge he’s proposed.

If there’s one thing I’m certain about myself, it’s that I never, not ever, back down from a challenge.

Nor do I ever lose.

Tilting my head up to face his, I allow my lips to curl up at the edges. “Good to know.”

Hudson nods. If he expected me to back down, he certainly doesn’t show it. “On one condition.”

Should I weigh up the possibilities of what his said condition is? Probably.

Should I weigh up the pros and cons? Probably.

Should I just stick to my original plan and avoid Hudson at every cost? Probably.

But he’s piqued my interest…

I raise a manicured brow and let my question fly from past my lips. “Which is?”

“I need you to help me demonstrate how to squat using the weight rack. My client, Mitch, he’s having a bit of trouble and—”

“What makes you think I know how to squat with a weight?”

Hudson says nothing, but raises both of his brows, as if to say, “Come on, don’t play me for stupid.”

“Ask Rosie,” I say, immediately wishing I hadn’t. There’s something stirring inside of me which is jumping for joy that Hudson’s asking me and not anyone else.

Hudson shakes his head. “I’m asking you , Giselle.”

I’m nothing but a puddle on the floor.

Oh my god.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” I bob my head in agreement. “Where do you want me?”

The bright overhead lighting of the gym makes it hard to miss the way Hudson’s pupils blow wide at my wording. I’d meant it in an innocent manner, but I’m starting to realise that Hudson Millen isn’t an innocent man.

Not in the slightest.

Rosie’s eyes are wide as I pat her upper arm, muttering a “I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Bitch, I’m holding you to that,” she whispers back, pressing her lips together in barely contained glee.

I take another moment to peer over at Hudson, watching the lats in his back flex and release as he speaks to a blonde-haired man in front of him.

Hudson jerks his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to me until both of the men are looking my way expectantly.

Mustering every ounce of courage I possess – something I’m not usually short on – I leave Rosie behind, stalking to the weight rack area.

“Giselle, this is Mitch. Mitch, Giselle,” Hudson introduces us politely. “I know we’ve been working on our squats, but today is the first time we’ll be doing so with a weight behind you. I’d like Giselle to demonstrate why it’s vital to have someone to spot you, especially if this isn’t something you’re used to.”

Mitch nods without saying a word.

“Are you happy with that, Gee?”

“Yes, Hudson.”

It’s only because I’m standing so close to him that I see the shiver Hudson represses.

“Good,” he repeats. “How much weight do you usually squat with?”

I reel off my number, nothing too impressive, but it’s an amount I’ve been working towards.

Happy with my answer, Hudson grabs a barbell from its rack and begins to load it up with an equal amount of metal weight plates on either side of the bar.

“Get underneath for me, won’t you?” he directs, tapping his hand on the barbell to signal that he wants me to duck.

I do as asked without hesitation.

In this position – my back a few inches from Hudson’s chest and a large mirror in front of both of us – I can spot the smirk playing about his lips.

Apparently, I’m not the only one of us who can make their once innocent set of words sound… less than innocent.

“So, Giselle is going to reach behind her and grab the barbell.” Hudson may be speaking to Mitch, telling him exactly what I’m going to do, but his green eyes stay on mine in the mirror the entire time. “She’s going to want to find a comfortable position where the barbell is resting on her shoulders, and then once she’s happy with that, she’s going to lift the barbell up and off the rack and begin her first squat.”

The cold metal texture of the barbell bites into the palms of my hands as I reach behind and grab tight a hold, make sure my feet are shoulder width apart and inhale deeply, about to lift up and off, when—

“Hudson?” I lower my voice so only he can hear me.

He matches my quiet pitch without needing to be prompted. “Yeah?”

“You’re not going to let him stand there and look at my arse, are you?”

I watch Hudson’s teeth clench so tight his jaw ticks. I’m surprised I can’t hear his teeth cracking with the force.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he grits out, eyes still on mine, holding, waiting.

Then he flicks his attention to Mitch for the smallest of milliseconds. “Mitch. Round the other side, mate. I need you to pay close attention to what I’m doing, not Giselle.”

Once Mitch is facing Hudson, and not my legging cladded arse, I pick up the barbell and added weights. I suck in every inch of air I can get into my lungs and slowly bend my knees.

“One.” Hudson keeps count behind me. “Good. Another.”

The rest of the busy gym around us seems to melt away until all I’m focused on is the weight resting on my shoulders that I’m squatting with and Hudson’s huge presence behind me.

Unlike Mitch, I can’t find it within myself to be bothered if Hudson is checking out my arse.

Not to toot my own horn, but it’s a pretty good arse if I do say so myself. Hours and hours and hours of dancing certainly has its physical benefits, as well as its mental ones.

When I feel a small shake overtake my body on my sixth squat, Hudson steps up closer behind me, those tattooed arms of his spread out in case he needs to catch me or the heavy barbell.

“You okay, Gee?”

“Yeah,” I mutter through my clenched teeth.

“A few more, okay? Give me a few more.”

Holy fucking god.

This is beginning to feel way too similar to my Thursday night fantasy; Hudson, him behind me, the phantom feel of his hands on my body.

Except, the real thing is worse, because I can feel the heat emanating from him, the feel of his words imprinting themselves on the back of my bare neck, I can smell his aftershave, something citrusy and delicious that I don’t think I’d mind tasting on my tongue if I licked behind his ear.

I can see him, real and in the flesh, this large man towering above me, making me feel safe and comfortable and—

My core flutters.

My god.

I can feel how unsteady my feet are beneath, knees knocking, but I still bend my body into another rep.

“Drive up through your legs, Giselle,” Hudson utters with a gritted tone to his voice that I shouldn’t like the sound of. But fuck me I do. “Drive. It.”

My eyes search for Hudson’s in the mirror, taking in the tight clench of his jaw, but his eyes aren’t on my face.

A thrill, which has no place being in my body, especially because it’s being caused by Hudson’s wandering eyes on my body, dances through me.

I blame that on the reason I faulter.

Blood rushes through my head, wiping out any other sound around me, as my legs wobble and I try, in vain, to not drop the barbell stacked with weights resting on my shoulders.

It’s no good.

I feel the earth rising up to meet my buckling knees and I just have time to decide to let go of the weighted barbell and stretch out my palms in an attempt to save myself. The pressure on my shoulders and upper back releases as I have no choice but to let go of the barbell and—

“Whoaaa…”

Vaguely, over the roaring of fresh blood cascading over my skull, I register the loud clang of metal on metal.

I think I’m panting but I’m not sure.

Somehow, my palms haven’t kissed the gym floor yet, but I still feel like I’m free falling—

Twin squeezes throb around my waistline, one on either side of my hips, catching me, grounding me.

“Deep breath in for me, Gee.”

That actually sounds like a good idea, so I do as asked, sucking in a deliciously fresh flow of oxygen through my nose until my lungs are full to capacity and pressing right up against my protective ribcage.

“Another one. Good. Can you open your eyes for me yet?”

Mustering the semblance of energy I have left, I peel open my screwed-up eyes to find Hudson behind me, pressed up against me tightly, his huge hands wrapped around my hips.

I suck in another breath, this one shakier than the last.

What the—

“See this Mitch,” Hudson’s eyes flick to the watching man standing just off to the side of us before settling back on me and staying there. “Is why having a spotter is crucial. That could have been a really bad accident if I wasn’t behind her to catch the barbell.”

“I should just stick to dancing,” I mumble, head still thick with clouds.

Hudson’s hands squeeze my hips again, his thumbs stroking along the slip of flesh between the hem of my loose-fitting shirt and the elasticated waistband of my leggings.

“Don’t put yourself down, Gee. Accidents like that can happen to anyone, even seasoned weightlifters. The wrong stance, low blood sugar, lack of proper nutrition and hormones can all have an effect of how much weight your body can handle lifting. Those can change day by day.”

I nod, gulping down another lungful of oxygen while my stomach flips back to front.

“How you feeling?” Hudson asks.

“Are you talking to me or Mitch?” I croak.

Hudson cheekily swipes of his thumbs against the skin of my stomach. “You, silly. Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine… just a little lightheaded, I guess.”

“It’s probably your blood pressure dropping. Go and sit down, I’ll bring you over some water.”

On wobbly legs, feeling like a newborn baby giraffe, I teeter over to the closest bench and sit down. This wasn’t in the plan; this wasn’t in the fucking plan at all.

“Are you okay?” someone asks me, I don’t register who. “That was going to be a pretty nasty fall before Hudson saved you.”

“I don’t need saving,” I mutter, mouth dry as if it’s full of cotton wool. Probably because of the lie I’ve just told.

“Maybe not all the time,” Hudson’s voice swims beside the voice of the stranger. “But you needed me back there, otherwise you’d be sitting here with burns on your hands from the floor and grazed legs. And that’s if you’d been lucky.”

He’s got me there and we both know it.

Muscles and ligaments can be fickle things, easily tearable and painful to heal. I would basically be out of my job if I’d injured myself with the weighted barbell.

Pressing my lips together, I crack open my eyelids, testing to see if the world has stopped spinning on its axis.

Hudson crouches down beside my legs, showing off his toned thighs and calves, not that I should be looking, while one of his hands finds a home for itself on my kneecap. “Alright?”

All I can do is nod.

“Here.” He thrusts a blue reusable water bottle at me. “Have a few sips of water and…” From his back pocket, he retrieves a slightly squished protein bar. Chocolate flavoured with chunks of dried raspberry dotted throughout it. “Take a few bits of this too and get your sugar levels back up to where they should be.”

With his eyes on me, causing my skin to flush, I uncap the water bottle and place my lips to the spout. It feels oddly intimate to be drinking from the same place Hudson’s lips touch.

It’s the closest thing to kissing him that I will allow myself.

The cool water slips down my throat pleasantly, followed by the sweet taste of chocolate and tart fruit as I take the offered sweet treat, already unwrapped by Hudson’s nimble fingers, and sink my teeth into it.

“Better?”

I nod, unable to unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth because my entire focus is being taken up with the fact Hudson’s hand is still on my body, the tips of his fingers resting on the inner portion of my kneecap.

“Giselle?”

“Better.” I force the words past my lips. “Thank you, Hudson.”

The smile, pearly white teeth on display, he sends my way has my stomach swooping low, like I’ve just been thrown down the other side of a rollercoaster.

“You’re welcome.” He squeezes my knee and finally, finally , allows his hand to drop, putting more space between us.

I’m equal parts relieved and disappointed.

“Finish up the protein bar and the water and take it easy for the rest of the day, okay?”

I swallow back a mouthful of water from his bottle. “Okay.”

Hudson glances over his broad shoulder at the treadmill section of the gym and then back to me, his eyes tracking the bob of my throat as I gulp. “I have another client due in a few minutes, but I can stay if you need me…”

“Go.” I wave my hand flippantly. “I’m fine, Hudson, really. I’m a big girl, I’ll be alright.”

“I know you will, I just—”

“I’m not interrupting something, am I?” An overtly saccharine voice stops whatever Hudson was going to say next in its tracks. A pretty redhead, her toned body encased in a tight-fitting leopard print gym set, stands, waiting expectantly, flicking her gaze between Hudson and me.

“No,” I say at the same time Hudson says, “Yes, Giselle had a little fall in the weightlifting area so I’m just making sure she’s—”

“Oh, dear.” The redhead tuts her tongue in what I think is supposed to be a sympathetic manner, except it’s missing the actual sympathy part before she changes tact. “Hudson?” One of her manicured hands wrap around his bicep. “Our training session was supposed to start a minute ago…”

An unfamiliar burst of jealously pricks my skin.

I need to leave; I need to get away from… whatever the fuck is happening right now.

“Enjoy your training session.” I paint a fake smile across my lips, which soon slips off like wax above a flame, when the redhead stares down her nose at me, her upper lip practically curling in distain.

Then, with the fire fuelled in my veins from a spike of adrenaline, a dollop of jealousy and a teaspoon of my own ‘take no shit’ courage, I thrust Hudson’s now empty water bottle back into his hand.

“Thanks for the water. Enjoy your training session,” I say, mustering every ounce of energy I have left in me to stand tall and walk away, heading towards the room to my studio without looking back.