On The Payroll

Just came home from my third session with The Punisher. We spotted each other as I walked into the gym and our smiles lit up. Not sure who was happier to see who. He told me he was in a good mood today. I said, "Yeah, because I'm here." I pointed out that I left my purse in the car so he wouldn't have to carry it around for me, and I'd swear he was actually disappointed.
Today we did back and bis. I was excited to pump up my guns, but I had no idea they were as weak as they are. It was embarrassing.
The Punisher led me from machine to machine, setting me up in the proper positions and assisting me when the weight became too much, which was pretty quickly tonight. He put his hand on my lower back, ensuring I had the proper arch, and our hands touched as he pulled down the bar I couldn't reach and he told me to grab it on the outside of his hands. As I looked up to grab the bar, muscles and tattoos were everywhere. Muscles were bulging, veins were popping, and his green eyes sparkled (What's with all these green eyed guys?), as the sun shone in on us while he counted my reps, beads of sweat covering my face and, as he pointed out, on my lip. Just after I wiped it off, he said he was going to wipe it for me. I knew he wanted to wipe it. "Without a towel?!", I asked, implying how crazy, gross and extremely personal that would have been.... knowing full well that we both would have enjoyed it. "With my shirt", he said. Next time I'll definitely bring in my towel, hand it to him, and tell him it's for when he sees me start to sweat. He'll love it. He went and grabbed a paper towel for me so I could wipe my face, which I then handed to him to hold for me until I needed it again. Apparently, he's not afraid of a little sweat.
The Punisher asked me if anyone told me how pretty I looked today. In between reps and grunts, I said, "No, no one did." I was too tired and ensconsed in tearing apart my muscles at that moment to articulate my actual thought: "Only me, when I looked in the mirror". Too bad. He would have gotten a kick out of that one. Then he told me how pretty I looked...just before he increased the weight and demanded another set out of me.
I whined and bitched and moaned, "I can't, it's too heavy, make it lighter." My protests were useless. This is what I need. Apparently, I inadvertently flashed him a look...not sure which look this was...it wasn't my usual eyeroll...I think it was more of a death stare...I must have channelled it from my sister. He looked at me with those green eyes that are no match for my big brown bombers, no matter how many muscles and tattoos he's sporting, and said, "You don't know me well enough to look at me like that." I told him, "Apparently, I feel I do." We have fun.
We finished up with some torturous ab work, and then sat down to business. We had to go through the motions of sitting at his desk and going over the training packages they offer. Apparently, his boss has taken notice of our freebies. The Punisher and I already discussed that I wasn't going to buy one of their rip off packages...and we worked something out amongst ourselves...Brooklyn/Philly syle. He's going to train me on his personal time for what I felt was a very fair wage. Done deal. He pulled out his rate sheet and circled different packages, prices and enrollment fees, with his boss probably watching from afar. Do people really pay this? I looked at him across the desk as he pretended to explain the different options to me, as I said, "Blah, blah, blah." "What are you going to tell your boss?", I asked, not wanting to cause him any trouble. "I'll tell him you're my girlfriend and I'm training you on the side", he answered without missing a beat. These brick layers are quick! Uh oh. I just laughed it off. I must have told him 5 times since we met last week that I have committment issues (about one thing or another). He's not deterred, the little Pitbull.
With our business settled, he walked me to my car, confirmed our "date" for Saturday which, it has become painfully apparent to me, from his perspective is an "I want to take you out, ply you with drinks and food and make out with you as my new girlfriend" kind of "date", as opposed to my vision of "let's go out, drink, eat, laugh, have fun and, let's face it...most likely make out with my trainer/new BFF, who I like to flirt with and tease, but is not my boyfriend because, even though he would carry my purse, worship the ground I walk on, and maybe be a truly good-hearted, blue-collar sweetheart, certainly he can't be The One for me, as God has not yet created The One for me." So, why bother with all those silly labels? Let's just call it friends. I'm better at friends. When you're friends, you don't end up with another superfluous wedding gown and thousands in lost deposits. Just a slight difference in perspectives. Shouldn't be a problem.
As I was getting ready to leave, he told me his parents are coming into town next week, and invited me to go to dinner with his family! What the hell is going on here? Have I really become that irresitable? I've been known to move too fast in the past, but this pace is alarming even for me. Maybe he's just really friendly despite what appears to be the Grim Reaper on his right forearm? Hmmm, how do I convey that that's cool and sweet, as long as we're hanging out as BFFs, and I'm not on the fast track to my third fiance? Sucking face with him next weekend after a couple of cocktails probably won't be the best course of action. But, as my mother used to sing to me as a little girl, "Que sera, sera, what will be, will be...."