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“He’s definitely not that,” I murmured.
He bought sticker books for his sick daughter and kept a low profile. He got in my face when he thought I was being reckless with my safety and didn’t flinch at my anger. He bought coffees and wiped down weight benches. One moment, he looked like he was going to back me up against a wall, and the next, he was maintaining a polite professional distance.
“If you stare any harder, you’re going to burn a hole in his skin,” Kelly commented lightly.
“Just trying to figure him out.”
“Uh-huh.”
I rolled my eyes.
“You two have been circling each other since the day he started. It’s like watching the two most flirt-avoidant people in the universe trying to figure out how to speak to each other.”
I tossed a used wipe at her, and she laughed.
Aiden’s attention moved in our direction, and with the T-shirt folded in his hand, I felt a little like he was studying me in the same way I was studying him.
The next day, I was off.
And the one after that, I added Kombucha to the list of drinks that Aiden did not drink in the morning.
It wasn’t matcha either, which tasted like dirt, according to him.
The routine we settled into over the next week held a strange sort of tension, different than it had been at the beginning. Maybe because we were on more equal footing, or maybe because I wasn’t doing my very best to avoid him anymore.
And what I found, as I watched him interact with his growing list of clients, with the new trainers we hired, with the rest of us, was that I liked him as much as I wanted him.
His sense of humor was there, hidden underneath the reserve.
“Lemon water?” he asked. He held the cup up and gave it a dirty look.
“Apparently I’m not very good at this.” I watched him over the edge of the computer monitor.
“Tastes like I’m drinking Pledge.”
I rolled my eyes, and Aiden watched me carefully.
“Do you want some help with that?” he asked, nodding at all the boxes I was still unpacking. We’d ordered new shelves, new racks to match the new branding, and it was taking longer than I thought while I trained the new hires.
I shook my head. “It’s okay. Besides, you’ve got a new client coming at nine. All her paperwork is on your desk.”
“The soccer player?” he asked.
With a nod, I turned to grab another stack of shirts. They were just out of my reach, and he leaned down to push the stack closer to me. I smiled.
“How do you know her?” I asked.
“Same agent. Or my former agent, at least.”
I slid a neatly folded stack of shirts into the correct bin for their size. “You don’t need an agent anymore?”
Aiden shook his head. A lot of athletes, especially if they were high-profile enough, maintained a steady stream of endorsement income after retiring. He was watching me, eyes considering, like he somehow knew how hard this was for me. But he also didn’t share anything further.
I took a deep breath and glanced up at him. “You’d probably make easier money than what you’re doing here, if you still had one.”
Aiden’s mouth softened, but he didn’t smile.
He glanced at the gym, and I liked the way his eyes warmed when he looked at the space, the equipment. Like it was something more. “I probably would, Ward.”
