The moment the words left his mouth, I lifted an eyebrow. "You want to benchpress me as in you want to use me as your weights?" I repeated back slowly. 

"That's literally what I just said. So, are you getting on or what?" he snapped impatiently.

"No, I'm fucking not," I snickered.

His lips twisted into a scowl. "Why not? You're the one who brought up bench pressing a person in the first place," he argued.

 I laughed. "I brought it up, yes, but that didn't mean I was daring you to do it."

Nathan rolled his eyes in an exasperated manner. "Oh, come on scaredy-cat. What are you afraid of?" he goaded.

 I tapped my chin in pretense thought. "Hmm, let me see, I'm afraid of my boss seeing me behave inappropriately. I'm afraid of getting fired, and er...what was that other one, oh yeah, I don't want to."

"Oh relax, your boss hardly seems like the professional type, and besides if she says anything, I'll stick up for you and say I forced you into doing it," he explained persuasively.

I narrowed my eyes. "Is that a promise?"

"Yes, fine, I promise I'll stick up for you," he said.

"Hmm, okay, fine," I mumbled as I hesitantly moved closer to the bench.

I stopped before him. "So, how am I supposed to get on?" I asked in confusion. 

"Just sit on my lap and lay against me sideways," he explained. 

I swerved my head towards him sharply. "Wait, what? Your lap? Why do I need to be on your lap?" I asked in confusion. 

He paused, a look of panic overtaking his face. "Oh, wait, sorry, I meant chest. That was a slip of the tongue," he said quickly.

I looked him up and down with humor-filled eyes. "I'm starting to wonder if this is all an excuse to touch me up. I mean you were looking at my arse earlier," I said slyly.

"Whatever just get on," he snapped impatiently. 

"Hmm, and we're eager too?" He gave me a dirty look which only made my smile widen.

 "Alright, alright, I'll get on already," I chuckled. Turning around, I slowly lowered myself onto Nathan's chest and laid the length of my body perpendicular to him like he told me.

One of Nathan's hands moved to support the center of my back while the other went to rest underneath my thighs in preparation to lift me. I cursed myself silently as little sparks of electricity ran up and down my skin at the points, he was touching. He wasn't even touching my skin directly, so this was fucking ridiculous. I was clearly entering a rather sad stage of sex-deprived.

"Watch where your hands go," I joked, attempting to ease the weird jittery feelings that were bubbling up inside me. 

Nathan sighed. "You're really, really annoying, you know that right?" he spat out drily.

 "Only for you," I teased.

He lifted his head up a little so he could see me better. "Anyway, are you ready?"

"I suppose...," I said hesitantly.

 "Excellent," Nathan smirked before settling himself back on the bench.

 In preparation for the lift, I tensed my body up and crossed my arms over my chest to make myself more rigid. Nathan took this as a cue to start. I felt the muscles in his arms flex, and then seconds later, I was pushed high up into the air. 

I made a weird sound that resembled a squeal which he merely snorted at. He seemed to have nearly no trouble lifting me back down again, and I couldn't even lie; I was impressed. He repeated the motion and lifted me up and down for several reps. After the tenth one, I started to wonder if he was ever going to stop. If anything with each rep, he was starting to speed up.

 "So, are we going to do this for the rest of our lives, or are you going to put me down at some point," I joked, my voice slightly cracking under the effort of remaining rigid.

"Well, I might let you down if you admit I'm an elite bench presser," he said with a grunt. 

"Yeah, no," I said flatly.

"Well, then you're not getting down," he said as he lifted me back up again. "You're going to get tired eventually, you idiot. Especially if you keep wasting breath talking to me."

"Well, if I want a break, I'll put you down and restrain you, shouldn't be too hard?" he commented arrogantly. 

"Are you trying to say I'm weak?" I scoffed, my blood boiling hot. 

"Well, how many times have I successfully flipped you over my shoulder again? Once I think...or wait, no, I'm mistaken, I think it was twice," he teased.

This little piece of shit...

"Okay, this is officially over; I'm getting off," I snapped. 

"Wait, no, you haven't said the words yet," Nathan whined. I tried to sit up, but before I could, Nathan snagged an arm around my waist. The force of such caused me to twist around in his arms, and his arms gave way. I landed heavily on Nathan's lap with a groan, and I winced further as my leg banged against the metal legs of the benchpress chair. 

"Fuck," I cried as the pain in my knee started to pulsate.

"Oh, shit, Sophie, are you alright?" Nathan said in a panic. He quickly shifted himself underneath me and sat up before twisting me around to face him.

"Oh, crap, it's your knee, isn't it?" he asked as his eyes drew down to my leg in worry. "I'm such an idiot; I should have been more careful with you," Nathan cursed, his eyes drowning with guilt.

 My heart softened at his reaction. "Relax, Nathan, it's fine, I'll live," I chuckled. "Come on, let's continue on with the lesson," I said as I made a move to hop off him. 

"No, sit," Nathan ordered bossily. Grabbing my waist, he pulled me back into his lap to prevent my escape.

 My cheeks started to burn hotter than I even thought possible. I wasn't sure if it was because I was embarrassed or weirdly turned-on, perhaps both.

Ignoring my racing heart, I gave him my most unimpressed look. "Nathan, no offense, but I'm not exactly enjoying this seating arrangement?"

"Shh, just be quiet," he said, cutting me off. Grabbing the back of my injured knee, Nathan gently hiked it into his lap so he could get a closer look. Carefully, he started to roll the material of my leggings up my leg. 

"Er...what are you doing?" I stuttered.

"Checking to see if you're leg truly is fine or if you're lying like you most likely are," he said drily.

 I recoiled in offense. "Are you calling me a liar?" I scoffed.

Nathan didn't respond and continued to roll my legging until they were over my knees. The moment they were, he scowled before looking back up at me with furious eyes.

"Yes, Sophie, I am calling you a liar. Look at your bandages," he lectured. 

My posture slackened in embarrassment as I took in the sight of my blood-soiled bandage that had severely soaked through. 

 "I texted you several times this week to ask if it had stopped bleeding. And you said yes, every single shitting time. So, what the fuck is this?" He said letting out a disbelieving laugh.

I rubbed the back of my neck sheepishly. "Well, I might have stretched the truth a bit," I mumbled.

"A bit? It's literally still bleeding through this thick ass bandage. I think that's a little more than a tad," he spat.

"Alright, alright, maybe I did lie, but I was scared you'd go all pyscho kidnapper on me again and force me to go to the hospital," I grumbled.

His eyes flickered between mine for a while before softening. "Look, I know, I'm being annoying, I just...I just..," his eyes flickered around the room as though searching for the right words.

"You what?" I probed. 

His eyes fell on me again, and he swallowed. "I just worry a lot," he said softly.

From the way, he was looking at me and the warmth of his arms around mine, I soon forgot where I was. My eyes drifted over his soft mouth, his sharp cheekbones, and lastly, those striking eyes of his. Strangely, this time when I looked at him, I didn't see the rich asshole who had called me a hooker at the club. Or the guy who was my sole target for my ruthless manipulation. Instead, I saw a concerned guy.

 Or, more accurately, a concerned friend.

I'm not sure what came over me, but I reached out for his hand and held it. "I promise you, Nathan, I'm fine," I whispered.

He looked down at our hands together on his lap, and soon enough, his mouth pulled up into the faintest hint of a smile. The sight of it filled me with this strange foreign kind of feeling, and I couldn't decide if I loved the feeling or feared it.

Suddenly, I came to my senses and ripped my hand away from his abruptly. Clearing my throat sharply, I threw myself out of Nathan's lap at the speed of life.

I quickly rolled down the material of my leggings before turning back to face him. "Now that we're finished with your weird bench-pressing ego display, we can finally get on with the lesson," I snickered.

 His eyes narrowed to slits. "It wasn't an ego display; it was a display of skill," he argued as he rose to his feet.

"Hmm, sure," I snorted.

 "It was!" He protested. 

I laughed. "Whatever, Natalie, let's get on with the lesson."

-------------------

"Yellow car," I yelled out loudly as I gave Nathan a rather heavy sucker punch to the shoulder.

 "Ouch, what the fuck is wrong with you?" he cried as he took one hand off the steering wheel to soothingly rub up and down his arm.

I let out an exasperated sigh and banged the back of my head against the headrest. "Oh my god, how many times do I have to tell you; we're playing the yellow car game. The rules are simple - if you spot a yellow car, then you punch the other player in the arm as quick as you can," I explained in frustration.

"Yeah, and after you explained the rules of that stupid game, I distinctly remember telling you I didn't want to play!" he huffed.

I paused, realizing he actually had a point. "Hmm, and that's because you're a killjoy," I grumbled.

Nathan simply rolled his eyes and continued driving along the road. After our session together at the gym, Nathan had offered to drive me home.

 Well, offered might be the wrong choice of words; it was more along the lines of him telling me he was going to give me a lift home.

 As soon as he found out he was my last class of the day and that I was planning on walking home, he had practically dragged me to his car, grumbling on about how 'stupid I was to put continued pressure on my bad knee.' He then proceeded to go on a long-ass rant about how I shouldn't have even been teaching in the first place. 

So, long story short, Nathan had been acting like an annoying dick for the past twenty minutes.

"Wait, why did you go left at the roundabout when my flat is to the right?" I asked in confusion.

He fidgeted a little in his seat. "Oh...erm...well, I was hoping we could stop off at my flat first. Do you mind?" he asked as he briefly threw me a cautious look.

His words caught me by surprise as I was expecting him to want to get rid of me as quickly as humanely possible.

 "Nah, I don't mind, but why?" I probed.

"I figured we could get the last of our project done. And, well...," he coughed awkwardly. " I've got nothing to do today, so I thought you might be able to help me kill some time," he shrugged.

A highly amused smile stretched over my face. "Let me see if I've got this right. You want me to hang out with you?" I repeated slowly.

"Only because I want to finish the project," he stammered out quickly.

I smiled at him smugly. "It's okay, Natalie, you don't have to come up with excuses to hang out with me,"

"I swear to you, it's only because of the damn project," he yelled out in frustration. 

"Hmm, sure," I mumbled. This time he didn't say anything and stared moodily out of the window.

As much as he tried to deny it, we both knew that I was wearing him down, and we were well on our way to becoming friends. And the scariest part of all was that a part of me really liked that. 

---------------------------

Author's note: 

I hope you liked chapter twenty nine, and thanks for reading xx

What are people's favourite games to play in the car?

Next Update: Friday (6-8 PM - UK time)