Page 35 of Show Me

Why am I thinking about him? Stop it.

“I didn’t eat them.” I click my keys to ensure I lock my car. It might be Brookhaven, but crime has started to inch its way out of the city. “They’re still sitting on the counter like evidence.”

“Because you’re creeped out.”

I push through the door. “I’m… mildly unsettled.”

“That’s a fancy way of saying creeped out.” I don’t have to see her to know she rolled her eyes.

“I have to go,” I mutter, spotting a small crowd forming near the desk. “Call you later.”

“Text me if anything else happens.”

As usual, the gym smells like citrus cleaner, rubber mats, and sweat. No chocolates. Or handwritten notes.

When I round the desk, I stop. There’s a vase of flowers beside the computer. White lilies and red roses, tied with a matching ribbon that looks shiny enough to come with its own personality. Greg never gets flowers for the front desk.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, set my bag behind the desk, and log into the computer as a group of clients approaches.

"Morning."

"Good morning."

I check memberships, answer a question about class times, and point someone toward the locker rooms. By the time they've dispersed to their workout areas, the knot in my stomach has loosened a little.

The front door jingles. Brent. Of course.

He spots me immediately and changes course, making a beeline for the desk, a grin already settling into place.

"Morning, Ruby."

“Morning.” I rub my hands over my jeans. One second, I was chilly, and the next, my hands are coated in sweat.

His brow creases. “Wow. Someone’s trying to impress you.”

My stomach tightens as I take the extended membership card from his grasp while being careful not to let our fingers touch. “Were you?”

He laughs. “Not this time.”

Not this time. That doesn’t help.

“Have a good workout.” I slide his membership card back across the counter. I’m not willing to risk an accidental touch if I can help it.

He leans against the counter as Lindsey strides by on her way to the nearest treadmill. “Do you have time to show me around?”

“Not today.” I keep my tone even. The guy’s been here several times. There’s no way he needs to be shown around. And he clearly didn’t read the room when Greg got mad the other day that I was spending too much time away from the front desk. “You’ll have to get one of the trainers to show you around.”

He blinked again as if he was wondering if he misheard me. “You’re… sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Well….” He clears his throat. “How about that date?”

“Thank you, but I’m not interested.” A couple of people at the nearest weight machines pretend not to listen as heat creeps up my neck.

Brent rubs the back of his neck. “Right. Yeah. Okay.”

The treadmill Lindsey’s using squeals like it’s invested in the outcome, and everyone at the Burger Bunker will know about me turning him down before my shift is over. He grabs his bag and heads toward the locker rooms without another word.