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“Or a saviour.”
He gives me a kettle bell, and shows me how to use it, long and steady swings with my legs bent. He corrects my position as I go, and I surprise myself. I can do a fair few of them.
Lunges, yeah, I can do those. Sit-ups, not actually so bad. Then he gives me pair of hand weights and shows me how to fake punch, left foot forward.
I haven’t got much force with the punches though, and he folds his arms.
“Do it, Ells, give it some grit. You’ve got this.”
“Alright.”
I summon some fuel to spur me on and get my blood flowing, and that’s easy peasy. I picture Connor’s pity-me face when he told me he was leaving me for Carly. His outrageous justification as he proudly declared that little redhead Carly had contacts in the music industry. What an absolute prick. I’m glad I never met her, flirty little redhead. I imagine their two smiley faces together and then I punch the air like I mean it this time, stretching my arms right out as I step into the footwork. Take that, assholes. Take this one right on the chin for flinging your I’ve got contacts hooks, cow. And a side hook for you, you worthless wanker.
“What a U-turn,” Josh says. “Go steady, Ells, or you’ll do your triceps in.”
I puff out a breath. “I’m using Connor and the lying little bitch he left me for as inspiration.”
“In that case, definitely take it easy. You’ll do in your shoulder rotator cuff as well.”
“Maybe I was a boxer in a past life, huh?” I shoot him a couple of fake punches.
“Yeah, might be a good skill to have, since you’re being fake abducted for a living.”
I flash him a grin. “Not sure User 706 would have found it quite so horny if he’d dragged me out from under the bed and got a left jab and right hook.”
I see his eyes light up, and I wonder then if Amy was a talker, not a listener, just like Connor was.
“I like this,” I tell him. “Will you be my personal trainer? I’ll pay you by trying to take a boot in my pussy.” I laugh. “Actually, that’s a lie, that’ll be my pleasure as well as yours.”
“I’ll be your personal trainer all day long for free. It’s nice to share it with someone. Tiff hates it, she gives me the side eye if I ever suggest it, then slaps her ass, saying she wouldn’t want to ruin her assets.”
I can see her tongue poke in my mind. Hear her cackle.
“Let me do something for you, at least,” I say.
“Sing the Rocky theme when I’m on the treadmill, how’s that sound?”
“It’ll sound bloody awful,” I laugh.
“Go on… I bet you can really sing.”
“No, no. Last time I sang, the RSPCA turned up, searching for a dying cat. I want to do something serious.”
Josh laughs again. Fuck, he’s gorgeous.
I wrack my brain for a moment, then remember how attentive he was when I got back home last night, knackered and hungry. I was grateful beyond words for the breakfast he made for me. I could cook for him today… or I could try. An actual meal, not some pasta with a stir in sauce, or a microwave heated pizza.
I remember Daddy’s delicacy. Chicken casserole. It can’t be that difficult. I pick up my phone and search for a recipe as Josh resumes his exercises.
Nope, doesn’t look that hard at all.
“Be right back,” I say. “Just nipping to the store.”
“The store? There’s plenty of stuff in the cupboards.”
“How about celery, thyme and parsley? Are they in the cupboards?”
He raises an eyebrow. “You might have me there. What do you have up your sleeve?”
