Gimme Everything You Got - Iva-Marie Palmer Page 0,89

bodies could have together, but in his space, as he shared his excitement, I was just happy for him and wanted his business to succeed.

He clapped his hands together, knocking me out of my thoughts. “Okay, if you were a client, I’d put you on a legs program and an upper body program on alternating days, but we’re going to try a few sets on a few different muscle groups,” he said. “If this game is next week, I have to say, I don’t think there’s much we can do. It’s not good to lift too frequently right before a big competition. But it’ll probably give you a nice confidence boost, which never hurts.”

He turned on the radio and “Hotel California” came over the speakers.

“Oh no,” I said, laughing to myself.

“What’s that?” Bobby asked.

“This song,” I said. “It’s funny that it’s kind of pointing out how messed up the music industry is but it comes on the radio all the time.” I was echoing Joe’s diatribe, and felt shitty for stealing his thought to share with Bobby.

Bobby looked impressed at my observation, which wasn’t really mine. “The boys in your class must be terrified of you,” he said, and that pleased me. “Come on.”

He led me to a big machine with a low chair that tilted back and faced two metal plates for your feet. A bar extended from either side. Bobby easily hefted a round fifty-pound weight and slid it onto one bar, then did the same on the other side. He sat down on the inclined chair and pushed against the metal plates with his feet, every leg muscle flexing. “This’ll build your quads, a very important soccer muscle.” He sat me down and used the side of his palm to gesture up and down my thigh, not touching it but so close to touching it that I clenched up, as though he could see how horny he was making me. “You want to always push from here. Not your back.”

“This is a hundred pounds,” I said.

“Yep, and the way you run, I’d bet you could do more, but this is a good place to start. Try it.” I pushed like he showed me, and watched the weights rise up as the chair slid away from them. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it’d be. Bobby still hovered right above me, staring right into my eyes. “You’ve got it—let’s do ten more.”

I got a little woozy from the intense way he was looking at me. I knew he wouldn’t make a move on me or anything, but the look helped me imagine he wanted to.

I would be carried away if I kept going down this road. I asked him, “Why do you want to have a gym?”

He stepped back to look around the space. “I told you about my brothers, right? Well, that followed me to high school, and I was a second-string guy on the football team. I almost quit, I was so angry. It wasn’t very attractive. I didn’t quit, but I decided to learn soccer in college, to escape the whole football thing. And once I found my game, I realized it didn’t matter how good or bad I was, as long as I was growing. It was about finding my personal best. I think everyone deserves that.”

“So you want to inspire people?”

“That’s stupid, isn’t it.” He looked so vulnerable, like he was sure I’d agree. But I shook my head and said, “Not at all.” I wanted to hug him.

He extended a hand to help me up from the weight bench. “Thanks for that,” he said. He guided me to a mat on the floor and said, “Have you ever heard of crunches?” He showed me how to lie down on the mat with my knees bent. “You lift from your shoulders up. You want to feel it here.” He gestured to his abdomen.

“So you really don’t think it’s too crazy I challenged those guys to a game?” I asked as I tried to gracefully heave myself up from the floor. “They were making me so mad, acting like we shouldn’t be playing.”

“And maybe you wanted another game to make up for what happened in Wisconsin?” He didn’t sound mad, more curious. Still, I blushed.

“I’m sorry for what we did,” I said. “We didn’t mean to get carried away.”

“We won’t dwell on it. But as for playing, if you shouldn’t play, then no one should. We can write sports off as silly, but