Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

Ellis

Maggie and I were in the middle of cooldown stretches when she suddenly ducked her head and muttered, "Oh my hotness!"

"What was that?" I asked with a laugh.

"Mike is here." She sighed gustily and pushed a sweaty strand of hair back from her shiny face. "Don't let him see me. I absolutely humiliated myself in front of him last week."

I glanced over my shoulder, catching sight of the guy who'd just entered the room. He was in his forties, and was lean with a runner's build. He wasn't one of my clients, but I recognized him as a regular at the gym.

"Don't look!" Maggie hissed.

I turned forward. "How did you embarrass yourself?"

"We crossed paths in the lobby, and he said hello."

I nodded encouragingly. "That sounds like a good start."

"I said, ‘You're too hot to speak to me.'" I gave a startled laugh. "Then I said, ‘You didn't hear that.' And I ran for the door." She continued, waving her hands, "I'm not kidding, El. I didn't just go to the door. I sprinted like I was in a fucking race."

I tried to stop laughing. "I'm s-sorry," I gasped. "I'm not making fun."

"No, I'm hopeless. My ex was a real piece of work, but I get so flustered and tongue-tied. I don't know how to flirt with a guy. And shit, he's coming this way."

Maggie was a cute lady. She worked hard at her personal fitness and had made a ton of progress in strength and endurance. I wished she'd have more confidence in herself.

"All right, come on. I know how to get Mike's attention."

"What? No! I don't want his attention."

"Time for the Downward Dog." I popped up and took Maggie's hand. "Come on, you know what to do."

"But, El, my ass?—"

"Is all kinds of toned, thanks to me," I joked. "Come on. Get into position."

Maggie went to hands and knees, placing her hands under her shoulders and lifting her knees and hips until she was in an inverted-V position.

And her ass was right in front of Mike as he moved into his own warm-up stretches behind us.

"That's perfect, Mags," I said loudly. "Wow, I bet I could bounce a quarter off this ass."

"Not likely," she muttered in a strained voice.

"The guy's a professional," Mike said, with a small grin teasing his mouth. "Pretty sure you can take his word for it."

"Thank you, Mike."

Mike flicked a glance toward me in surprise. We'd never officially met. But his gaze was soon drawn back to Maggie.

"I've seen you working out," Mike continued conversationally as he switched into a leg lunge, bringing him closer to Maggie's form. "You're dedicated."

"No way!" Maggie expelled a high-pitched giggle that startled even me. Her arms began to shake.

"Yes, actually, I was wondering…"

Mike straightened and took a step forward. He bent over to speak closer to Maggie's ear. "Maybe we could?—"

"Ugh, I can't hold this pose anymore," Maggie said at the same time.

She shoved backward and up, and her head crashed directly into Mike's face.

He yelled and stumbled, grabbing for his nose, which instantly gushed blood.

"Oh my god!" Maggie exclaimed, horrified. "Are you okay?"

I grabbed the towel he'd dropped on the floor and helped him staunch the bleeding. "I think it might be broken."

"Oh my gosh, I'll take you to the ER. I'm so sorry."

Mike said something muffled behind the towel.

"What?" Maggie asked.

He lowered it enough to speak. "Not the date I'd hoped we'd go on."

Maggie's eyes rounded like saucers. "You want to go on a date?" she said. "Even after this?"

"Especially after this," he said, raising the towel again. "I don't bleed for just anyone."

She laughed incredulously, turned to me and stammered, "Uh, I have to…"

"Go," I said. "Hurry. The man needs some painkillers."

"Right!" She grabbed his arm and began steering him across the room. Just before they exited, she looked back and gave me a thumbs-up.

It wasn't exactly how I'd intended for her to score a date with her gym crush, but it got the job done. As they reached the doors, I noticed Jordan standing there, watching the whole debacle with wary eyes.

Excitement rushed through me.

"Hey, Jordie!" I waved to draw his attention back to me, then realized there was blood all over the mat.

I grabbed a fresh towel and some cleaning solution to mop up and disinfect the mats. We had to be careful when blood was spilled.

Two battered tennis shoes came into my view and I glanced up. Jordan wore navy blue sweats and a gray T-shirt, both far too baggy for working out.

"You're here," I said, smiling up at him from my knees.

"Yeah," he croaked, gaze flitting to me and away as he shifted. "So, uh, does blood often get spilled here?"

"What?" I looked down, reminded of the bloody rag. "Oh! No. Just a funny accident."

"Funny," Jordan echoed, sounding disbelieving.

I surged to my feet, nearly head-butting Jordan and giving him the same fate as poor Mike. Luckily, he stumbled back a step.

"Be right back!" I called before barreling toward a sanitary disposal bin for the towel. I tossed the evidence, then washed my hands before turning to him.

"There, no more blood," I said cheerfully.

"That's not concerning at all," he deadpanned.

I laughed. "I promise not to shed any of your precious blood, Jordie. You're in good hands."

He swallowed hard, his gaze drifting to my hands. "I can see that."

"We're not working out yet anyway," I said. "First, we have to do the consult."

"Right, which means…what, exactly?"

I put my hand on his back and guided him toward a private room. "Think of it like a client meeting at the law firm," I said. "We're going to discuss your fitness goals, get some information about your lifestyle, and tailor a plan to your unique needs."

"An interview." He heaved a relieved breath. "That doesn't sound so hard."

"Nope, it's not hard at all," I reassured him. "I know you pretty well, so I can probably answer most of these questions myself."

I opened the door to the small room with a round table, chairs, and a scale in one corner. I fetched my clipboard with intake forms and took a seat at the table. Jordan sat across from me.

I scanned past questions about eating, drinking, and smoking habits, since I knew Jordan ate like crap, drank occasionally, and never smoked.

"What are your fitness plans?"

"Uh, I don't know. To make my best friend El happy?"

I smiled at him. "Jordan, you already do that. I know you're here for me, but you could get something out of it too."

"Well, I guess a ripped bod that makes all the boys drool would be nice," he joked. "But I'm not sure I'm dedicated enough for that."

"How about we settle for getting you into some healthier habits, and we let your big buff brain make the boys drool?"

"Probably more realistic," he admitted. "But I'm not sure my brain makes anyone drool."

"I don't know," I mused. "You rock that TA gig. I can see some admiring eyes in the class."

"They're not the ones I want to admire me."

"Oh? Who then?—"

"Any other questions on that form?" he asked abruptly.

"Just a few." We went over some medical history questions since I didn't know the answers to those. Then I gave Jordan my unsolicited opinion about his diet and exercise. "I know you'll never be a gym enthusiast, but you can make changes that'll keep you healthier."

"I have put on a few pounds since starting school," he said, sounding embarrassed.

"Jordie, contrary to popular belief, my job isn't about achieving perfect bodies, just healthy ones. Even without weighing you, I can see you're in the normal range."

He looked skeptical. "But your body is pretty perfect."

I was used to people admiring my body. I was in peak physical condition. But something about the way Jordan said the words made a strange flutter start up in my gut.

"I'm not perfect. I just spend a lot of time here." I shrugged. "I haven't always been in great shape myself."

"That's hard to believe."

"I know, but it's true. I took a weight training class in high school. I wasn't really into sports, and I kind of landed in the class by mistake, but I got addicted to it really quickly. Setting goals I could reach for day after day, then hitting them? Plus, the rush of endorphins that comes from pushing yourself? I loved it. Loved setting new challenges and meeting them."

"That must be why you're doing so well in law school."

I grinned. "I do like it a lot more than I thought I would. It's like mental gymnastics."

"Ah, so you're still a fitness nut. Just working out your brain instead of your body."

I laughed. "Kind of."

"So, what now?" Jordie asked.

"Now we weigh and measure you."

He grimaced. "Sounds fun."

I got out of my seat and led him to the scales. His weight clocked in about where I expected. "You're five-foot-eleven, right?"

"Did you just guess that?"

"Yep."

"You could become one of those carnival barkers. Let me guess your height and weight!"

I laughed. "I'll keep that in mind if I flunk out of law school."

"No chance of that happening," he said.

While he stepped off the scale, I fetched my measuring tape. I stepped in close to stretch it around his upper chest. His breath caught. "Why is this necessary?"

"Just need a baseline so we can measure your progress as you build muscle."

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "You're optimistic."

"Always. I find that clients…." I looked up, our gazes catching and holding, and my words trailed away. There was an intensity in his eyes that made my thoughts scatter. "Um. What was I saying?"

"You find that clients?" he prompted.

I looked down to make note of the measurement, then lowered the tape to measure his waist. Jordan instantly sucked in his stomach.

"Clients respond to a positive outlook." I paused. "You're going to have to breathe, Jordan."

He exhaled loudly. "Sorry. Reflex."

I shifted to measure the circumference of his biceps, then lowered myself to my knees to do the same with his thighs. Once again, I was on my knees at his feet.

But this time, awareness prickled at my skin. Sexual awareness.

It had been a long time since I'd been in this position for anything other than innocent, work-related reasons. But something about the look in Jordan's eyes when I'd leaned in close to measure his chest…

Was he attracted to me?

I licked my lips and glanced up at him.

He was holding his breath again, and once more, that spark of heat had entered his gaze.

Saliva pooled in my mouth in response.

Shit, was I attracted to him ?

Jordan's brown hair and eyes had always given him a warmth I'd associated with friendship. But now, with him towering over me, I couldn't help but notice the stubble along his jaw, the fullness of his bottom lip, and just how handsome he actually was.

Clayton was all movie star good looks, but Jordan? He had character. He was so expressive his entire face spoke volumes when he said nothing at all.

He had an incredible, intense focus that I'd seen when he studied.

And right now, he was studying me.

I reached for his thigh in slow motion, but before my fingers had done more than brush the fabric of his sweats, he took a quick step back.

"I think even your optimism should have some limits," he said. "I'm not looking to build that much muscle."

I chuckled, willing my cheeks to cool before Jordan noticed something was off. I loved Clayton. I was trying to win him back. I couldn't be hot for my best friend.

I stood and returned the measuring tape, then made a few more notations on my forms while I composed myself.

"So, are we done?" Jordan asked.

"Until next time," I said. "I'll walk you through a light routine so I can gauge your existing fitness level."

"No blood though?" Jordan asked.

"Nope," I said with a playful grin. "Just sweat and tears."

I remained tense as I walked him out to the lobby and said goodbye. As soon as he was gone, I rushed to the locker room and turned the shower to cold.

I wasn't sure what had gotten into me, but I was determined to freeze it out.

I hadn't had sex in a long-ass time. I used exercise to purge the worst of my urges. It had just gotten to me today, that's all. Once Clayton took me back, everything would return to normal.

I'd have my dream man and my best friend.