He hesitates, a playful yet somehow meaningful tension building in his pause. “I usually save it for the second week, but I have a feeling you might appreciate it earlier. But I warn you, it’s a bit ...unconventional.”
I can feel my heartbeat pick up, my curiosity piqued, for sure.
“I’m no stranger to unconventional,” I reply with a lightness that has my memory flash through the past weekend’s escapades and the scenes it’s inspired me to write.
Adam’s smirk reappears, a hint of mischief lighting his eyes. “Good. Because it’s not just about the physical training around here. There’s something else, something that might just change the way you see everything in this place.”
Despite myself, a mixture of excitement and apprehension courses through me.
What could possibly make such a difference?
He leans in even closer, his breath a warm whisper against my ear. “It’s a special class,” he murmurs. “One that requires a certain ...openness. A willingness to embrace the unexpected.”
A shiver races through me like a lightning bolt sent from Zeus himself.
“And when is this mysterious class?” I ask, unable to hide my smirk.
“Tonight,” he says, pulling back just enough to search my face for a reaction. “Meet me here at six. Wear loose, comfortable clothes. I promise it’ll be worth your while.”
With that, he steps back, the spell of his closeness broken, leaving me with a heart racing and a mind whirling with possibilities.
Was he asking me out on a date? Was that his veiled way of getting me to agree?
“See you tonight, Carlie,” he offers with a wink.
Dumbfounded, I watch him walk away, pondering over how he made a wink look so sexy.
CHAPTER7
Adam
6:00 p.m. sharp, and I’m pacing outside the gym, trying to play it cool.
I told Carlie to meet me here so I could bring her to this class. All the while, reminding myself to stay professional.
But she’s late, and I’m starting to think I might be waiting for no one.
Maybe I should have been clearer about what I planned.
Vagueness can be off-putting, right?
Maybe she’s not the adventurous type?
However, just when I consider calling it a day, the doors burst open.
She’s not in anything I’d call workout attire. Instead, she’s sporting a casual turtleneck tank and a skirt that outlines her curves with an accuracy that screams‘tailor-made.’And those sandals, flaunting teal-painted toenails, look more suited for a dance floor than a yoga mat.
Holy hell.
It takes a moment to get my brain to snap back to trainer mode.
This isn’t a date.
“Hey,” she says, walking up with a sheepish grin that suggests she’s fully aware of her apparel mishap. “I might have misunderstood the invite? And dress code, come to think of it.”
I laugh, unable to help it because she’s just so damned cute when she’s flustered. “No worries, you look ...nice. Really nice.” I catch myself before I can go too far. “But what I have planned might challenge the integrity of that skirt.”
Her cheeks flush with a warm rose glow and I wish I could read her thoughts.
