The BB Problem

I feel like such a cliche.

Last week, I was talking to Amanda about my appointment with BB at the gym.
Amanda: Ooh, you like him.
Me: What?
Amanda: You're always talking about him.
Me: I just-
Amanda: Don't argue with me. You like him.

Okay, so maybe I do a little bit. And maybe, just maybe, he likes me a little bit, but I really can't tell for sure. Besides, I kind of don't want to know if he does, because it wasn't supposed to go that way. I'm doing my best to ignore the possibility, 'cause I get flustered otherwise. BB is just supposed to be the guy who shows me how to do different exercises, nothing else. It's better that way, all compartmentalized. (See? I get flustered about it, even just writing about it here.)

Amanda thinks I should ask him if he's ever been a gymnast. She had a good experience with a gymnast and a hot tub and, ahem, creative positioning. She says I should ask BB about flexibility. She says, "Did you tell him about the gallery show?" and "Are you dating him yet?"

*Sigh* Why couldn't my personal trainer have been the gal? Why couldn't BB be married, or in his fifties, or otherwise not appropriate? If only he'd make some offhand comment about his girlfriend, then I could stop thinking about it.