Page 57 of Broken Trust
Instead, I sit on the edge of the weight bench and watch her cross the room.
She’s dressed for a workout.
Running shorts.
Sports bra.
Athletic shoes.
Normal gym clothes, but still …damn.
She stops to stretch beside the stair climber. She looks confident. Comfortable in her own skin. And entirely too easy to look at.
I drag my attention toward the dumbbells.
Focus, asshole.
You’re here to lift. Train.
Get it done so you can get to work.
I take the weights in my hands and lie back.
I try to concentrate on my sets and complete two of eight, but unfortunately, my eyes keep wandering.
Jovie bends into a stretch, rolling her shoulders and rotating her neck.
Professional movements. Nothing more. But, fuck me, it’s beautiful to watch.
A few seconds later, she turns.
Notices me.
Then removes one earbud.
“You again.”
“Me again.”
A smile tugs at her mouth. “What are you doing here this early?”
I set the dumbbells on the floor and sit up.
“What am I doing here? What areyoudoing here?”
She gestures toward the equipment. “Working out.”
“Funny. Me too,” I quip.
Her smile widens.
And a thrill shoots through me that I made it happen.
What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve never cared about making a woman smile.
I clear my throat. “Thought you’d be sleeping in for a while.”
“Yeah, I wanted to, but I got maybe an hour before Cabe woke me up for breakfast. Plus, I told the students I’d be here this morning in case any of them wanted to work out and needed pointers.”
