He sniffs the air, making a big show while I giggle and take a sip from my drink bottle.
“Nope, the air smells pretty good around here. Pretty sure your sweat smells like daisies.”
I laugh again and go to dig out my phone and keys but am stopped when he produces a red rose from behind the stack of neatly rolled towels.
“Or maybe you smell like a rose.”
I blink at the flower when he holds it out to me, wondering why I’m not smiling and reaching for it. There’s this pinching in my gut that I don’t understand.
Forcing a grin, I let out a soft snicker. “Uh… what’s this?”
“It’s a rose.” His broad smile softens. “For Valentine’s Day.”
My laugh is a little awkward as I try to decide whether to take it or not. I don’t want to be rude, but…
“That’s really sweet.” I glance up, our eyes connecting for a brief moment before I scratch behind my ear and explain, “But I already have a valentine. He’s waiting for me at home.” I don’t know why I’m not just taking the flower and thanking him. He’s probably giving a rose to all of his clients today.
It’s just that… something in his gaze is feeling kind of off, and instinct is telling me to reject this gesture.
Why am I feeling this way?
“Aw, come on.” Davis shifts, resting his hands on the cubby on either side of my head and boxing me in.
My guts twists, this time with a sharp pull, and my eyes dart past him, hyperaware for the first time ever that I am completely alone in this gym with him.
His wife works in an office downtown, and he has this place to himself every day. Well, himself and whoever he’s got working out down here.
Alone.
Boxed in against these cubbies of his.
I swallow, wishing this wasn’t happening.
I love Davis.
I love our banter. And sure, it might be mildly flirty sometimes, but I’m happily married, and so is he, dammit!
With another thick swallow, I lean my head back until it hits the wood behind me. “You should give that to your wife. I’m sure she’d love it.”
“I’ll give her one too.” He leans in a little closer. So close I can feel his warm breath fanning across my skin.
Shit, shit, shit!
Get out of here!instinct yells at me.
“But I wanted you to have one.” His smile gets all soft and squishy as he skims his finger down the side of my cheek. “I wanted you to know how special you are.”
“You’re married,” I squeak, leaning away from his touch.
“They wouldn’t have to know,” he whispers, cupping my chin and moving like a snake. Before I can even flinch, his mouth is covering mine.
My lips part in surprise, which is horrifying because he takes the chance to skim the tip of his tongue along mine, and no, no, no!
His lips, his mouth,his tongueare foreign and shocking, and what the actual fuck!
Shoving him away with as much force as I can, I wipe my mouth with a disgusted frown.
He takes a step back, like he’s surprised by my reaction, his expression crumpling with confusion.
