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“I wasn’t looking to leave Wilson’s.”
“But it’s not Wilson’s anymore, is it?”
Exhaling slowly, I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel. “It’s not. But it’s still the place that I love. And right now, I have no intention of leaving.”
He hummed. “Well, if you change your mind, you’ve got my number.”
With the call disconnected and my brain spinning at an uncomfortable speed about what it all meant, I set my phone back into my purse and started up my car.
Chapter Eight
Isabel
The next day, everything at work looked different.
Or maybe work was the same, but I was observing it through a different lens. The surprise call from the night before kept me awake for hours as I stared at the ceiling and tried to imagine a reality that didn’t include the four walls of the gym that was my second home.
The filter I’d applied started cataloging things that I’d change, if I could.
I didn’t like the way that the weight and cardio machines had been set up, but Amy felt it was important to keep a separation from the bags. There was too much dead space around the center ring, and the front desk should be oriented differently. We’d repeatedly had requests for full showers, but the investment was never worth the payoff at the time.
More than once that day, I found myself staring at that side of the gym, mentally rearranging things.
We needed more employees, woefully apparently on days like the ones I was in the middle of, as I wrapped my hands for my third one-hour class of the day. My throat was paying the price as much as my body was because even though we had mics, it was still a solid hour of yelling over the music. And my body, well … suffice it to say, I was trying to go easy so that I could move the next day.
As I was chatting with clients, I stretched my arm over my chest and caught movement in Aiden’s office.
He’d made himself scarce all day, and for that, I was thankful.
If I’d started off with water coming out of my nose, falling on my face, tripping over ropes or something, I might have thought on Carl’s offer for too long.
His tall frame filled the doorway, and when his gaze locked onto mine, I felt my cheeks grow warm.
My reaction begged the question, one I didn’t want to think about. Could I leave simply because of my reaction to him?
I’d never run from a challenge in my entire life. Not any that mattered.
And if I took this other job, that was what I’d be doing. Even when I didn’t see him, I imagined his eyes on me.
I dropped my arms and my gaze because he was still far enough away from me that I should’ve been immune to his presence.
Should didn’t mean shit, though, not when he had me hooked up to some invisible power grid. Even with the few interactions we’d had so far, that man had all sorts of hidden parts of me lighting up.
Hooking the battery pack onto my leggings, I flipped on the microphone.
“Two minutes until we get rolling, everyone. Make sure you’re all stretched out, grab a drink, whatever you need to do. I don’t give water breaks in my class, so it’s up to you to stay hydrated, okay?”
I walked to the wall where the stereo system was mounted on large brackets and tapped the iPad in the holder on the wall, pulling up the playlist I wanted to use.
Along the edge of the gym, Aiden walked slowly, chatting with one of our longtime members. But I felt his eyes on me as I walked the class through the warmup. My blood hummed warm and fast underneath my skin, and I found myself more energized than I had been in my previous classes of the day.
As I walked around the bags, shouting combinations and directions to the thirty people present, it was the first time I felt a different type of energy coursing through my body while Aiden was around. It was something powerful, something that prowled and purred.
What I allowed myself next was stupid. So stupid. But as I taught, I let my mind race. A different scenario played out in my head to the heavy, pulsing beat of the music. While everyone kept working, while people filled the building, he motioned for me to come into his office. Without a word, he shut the door behind us, approaching me silently, sliding his hand against my hip to turn off the mic, and then I was against the door, his hands hard, his mouth demanding, and to the thumping bass, he took me that way. Hand over my mouth so no one heard.
But it wasn’t real.
By the time I finished class, walking everyone through a cool down and stretch, I was sweaty and disheveled, hair sticking to the back of my neck as my braid had started unraveling with my effort and my imagination. Clients thanked me for the class, and after wiping down their bags and picking up their stuff, the gym slowly emptied, save for a few people on the machines.
