Page 10

My subjects are in high spirits when they arrive for their first movement meeting. I don’t get a single groan from the group as we gather in one of the studios.

“Okay, so this is how these group sessions are going to go. We will warm up for five minutes, getting our blood pumping before we get into the real workout. These won’t start off intense, but remember to go at your own speed.

If you can push yourself to give me a level seven effort, that’s ideal, but if you only have the energy for a three or four, any movement is better than none. Right?”

I get a chorus of rights and smiles.

“A lot of this is going to be mental as we get on, but after a few weeks, I promise you, you will notice a difference, and the mental part will get easier. Alright, let’s twist and swing our arms.”

This is where I thrive the best. I wanted to be a personal trainer after earning my undergrad degree in kinesiology. I have my training certification, but no one would hire me because of my size.

So back to school I went, driven to prove that people my size can properly train others of all sizes. Knowledge and willpower are different beasts.

What can I say? I like to eat good food. And maybe I’m not in perfect health, but that doesn’t devalue what I can offer others.

We step and bend to get blood moving in our legs, circle our arms to get synovial fluid flowing in our shoulders.

“Okay, everyone. We’re starting easy with a walking workout.” I lead them through various steps in thirty-second intervals. Thirty on and thirty off. This will allow range of motion and for them to learn the basics before we progress into the full movements, like squats and lunges.

They build up a sweat, and I do too, sticking my hair to my forehead and neck.

I get some groans by the end, and I keep a smile on my face encouraging them to stick it out. They do, and I clap for each of them and their hard work.

“You guys should be so proud. The first day is the hardest. Don’t be surprised if you have a little soreness over the next two days. Remember to stretch. Warm up a little first, then stretch. Twenty seconds each, two to four times. Don’t overdo it. Okay?”

Several of my students turn toward the door, and I catch a glimpse of Nick leaning against the door. How long has he been watching?

“Alright. Go hit the showers. I’ll see you guys here again on Monday.”

One of the older female subjects, Carol, winks at me on the way by.

Yes, Salazar is a beautiful male specimen, especially when he’s leaning like that in the tight T-shirt and jeans. All of it hugs his muscles deliciously. But more importantly, he’s also kind and smart.

And my professor.

I can’t forget that.

He’s giving me a small grin when I turn toward him. “Looks like that went well.”

I brush my hair back from my face, taking down my hair and putting it up again to catch the flyaways. “It did.”

“You done for the day?”

I swear he’s flexing his arms at me. What does he have up his sleeve? “Just have to clean up.”

“I’ll help.” Salazar pushes off the door jam and comes in to help me roll up the mats and stack them in the closet on the far wall.

Part of me wants to be self-conscious about my sweat, but he’s an athlete. He works with athletes. He doesn’t seem to be put off by it.

In fact, his smile turns sultry as he takes in the patch of sweat along my chest.

Cleaning up is easy and fast, and it leaves us hovering near each other by the windows. “Going home?”

I purse my lips at him, using the cement wall at my back to help cool me off. The way he’s looking at me is making it necessary. “I am. I need a shower.”

“There are showers here.”

“I didn’t plan for that. Maybe next time.”

The way his blue eyes darken before he tucks a strand of hair I missed behind my ear. The small touch zaps me deep. My skin lights me up with want.

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

A small laugh puffs out of me. “Okay.”

He walks me to and from the university near daily. It’s one of my favorite routines.

First, we stop at my lab to grab my things. Salazar takes my bag before I can grab it and won’t hand it back when I reach for it.

I make a face at him, but it’s got my heart pumping a little fast. What is he up to?

“That was your first training session with them, right?”

“Mm-hmm.” My arms cross to stave off the cold that comes with the evening air hitting my sweaty skin.

“You did a good job motivating them. You’d make a good personal trainer.”

Heat blasts my cheeks. “Thanks, I’m glad you think so.”

“Too bad that gym you interviewed with were idiots. Completely missed your appeal.”

I laugh, hard. “My appeal?”

His grin crinkles around his eyes with pure amusement. “Oh, Liv. You have no idea, do you?”

“What?”

Salazar sucks in a slow breath and meets my gaze. I swear he’s blushing. “Every bit of you is appealing.”

If I thought he was blushing, I know my face is on fire. “You don’t have to say things like that.”

His smile flattens, and he shakes his head. “You’re right. I don’t have to.”

Salazar lets that sit between us as we walk. We don’t have many uncomfortable silences, and this one isn’t that exactly, but it’s teetering on the edge of it.

At my car, I turn and lean against the door. Salazar is keeping my bag hostage, and it makes me laugh, which makes him smile.

“So, hey. Do you have any interest in playing a low-key soccer game tomorrow with me and Ruby? I’m taking her to her favorite ice cream shop after. We try a new flavor every week, and I think you’d like it.”

It’s the first time he’s offered to see me outside of class, and it makes me both nervous and excited. I shift against the side of my car, hands behind my butt as I chew on my lip. “Would that be appropriate?”

I look up at him, and I swear we stare at each other for so, so long. Every small tension that’s been laid between us seems to twist and multiply.

My skin heats under his observation, the cold from my sweat nearly completely gone.

His attention is on my mouth, and I can’t seem to help but pull my bottom lip between my teeth. Salazar clocks the move.

God he’s so close. Invading my space. It makes me so, so warm.

So tense.

Too aware of my body and the way my skin tightens as he draws nearer. And nearer.

My bag lands on the hood of my car.

He braces his hands on either side of my shoulders against my driver’s side door, and he leans in a little closer. “It might not be appropriate, but I’m past caring.”

The timber of his voice is rough, gravely, aroused.

My lips part as he brushes his mouth against mine. The smallest touch zaps me.

But then, his kiss presses more firmly. Slow and intense.

I kiss him back, letting him tease me open with a few small moves.

Passion cranks through me, lifts me on my toes, because I’ve been fighting a losing battle. I want him.

Even though I shouldn’t, I want him, and I want this.

My hand lifts to the center of his chest, not a move to push him back but to ground myself in this moment.

Nick’s kiss deepens just a hair. He doesn’t speed up, doesn’t grope at me, just shows me how much he wants to with his attention. His intentions.

If I let him, he’d take everything I have to offer.

Neither of us are ready for that. To give in to those desires.

When my hand gathers the fabric of his T-shirt in my fist, his mouth falls away from mine.

I’m shaking from it. From this line that we’ve crossed.

Nick simply grins down at me, his hand covering mine and smoothing out my grip. “So, this weekend. Saturday at eleven work for you?”