“Why do you think there’s a whole genre of clothing called athleisure? I’m not alone.”
I push her into the gym and we start to head our separate ways. We’ve tried to work out together, but it’s too distracting. I’m actually here for a purpose, while Sam just wants to talk and sip on a drink from the smoothie counter. She also likes to wear tight workout tops and yoga pants, and maybe I find that a little more distracting than the conversation. She steps back and sends me an over-the-top wave. “If I don’t meet you back here in an hour it’s because I’m hiding in a corner somewhere crying! Have fun!”
A beefy gym rat hears her as he walks by and offers up a greasy smile. “Are you new? I can take you through a few machines if you want. My name’s Kevin. I work here.”
Her eyes go wide and she looks petrified.
“Oh, no thank you, Kevin,” she says firmly and quickly before turning and breaking out in a run-walk in the opposite direction.
Kevin looks to me for an explanation, but all he gets is a scowl.
Tonight, Sam’s opted for a workout class lead by a spunky pink-haired teacher. For an hour, I work out on the machines while stealing glances of her inside the studio near the back of the gym. Glass windows stretch from floor to ceiling. There are a dozen other women dancing and kicking and pushing-up alongside her, but Sam’s near the back and it’s easy to watch her through the glass as she tries desperately to keep up. She’s really not so bad. What she lacks in physical strength, she makes up for in enthusiasm, her red ponytail swinging wildly.
I finish up on a machine and drag a towel across my forehead as the teacher takes them through some cool-down stretches. Sam steps her legs out into a V and bends forward at the hips so she can reach down and touch the ground. Her butt is displayed in the tightest pair of black stretchy pants she owns. I need to stuff my towel into my mouth and bite down.
The bicep machine closest to that back studio has had a steady line for the last hour. The machine is rusted and old and yet everyone wants a turn. The guy there now isn’t even pretending to use it. There are no weights hooked up, and he’s just tugging at the limp rope while he gawks at Sam. I want to wring his neck.
Sam’s upside-down head falls between her legs as she stretches, and when she sees me looking, she grins and waves enthusiastically.
“Hi!” she mouths.
The guys hovering near the bicep machine jerk their gaze in my direction, and when Sam turns away, I wave them off. They scatter like cockroaches.
I’m in the middle of leg presses when she finds me later. I have headphones in so I don’t notice her until she’s right there, a few inches away, sweaty and breathing hard.
I reach up and cut my music, but I continue with my set. She watches, eyes studying my legs like they’re wild animals, about to pounce.
“How was the class?” I ask, dragging my gaze slowly down her flushed cheeks and neck, down the front of her tight black top. She looks up and I jerk my gaze away before she catches me.
“Really fun, actually. Did you watch?”
Was I that obvious?
“I think I might’ve seen some in passing.”
She tries to hide a little smile. “So you saw when we did the cardio dance stuff in the beginning?”
Yes.
“No, must have missed it.”
“Ugh! It was my favorite part! Anyway, I’ll definitely go back. I hate doing the machines out here, but that class didn’t even feel like a workout. I mean, obviously it was…” She pinches her sweaty tank top for proof.
I pause my leg presses and reach for my water.
“See, feel. I think I got stronger just in that one class.”
She’s holding up her flexed bicep. I don’t think it’s a good idea to touch her right now.
“Ian! Appreciate my gains!”
“I can appreciate them from here, macho man.”
She reaches out for my hand and places it on her bicep. She feels delicate and warm. My hand closes around her upper arm, not tightly, but it feels strange…intimate. I watch her smile waver and I nearly say, You asked for this, remember?
She jerks away and rubs her arm like she’s trying to expel cooties from her skin. “Swole, right?”
I humor her. “You better watch where you aim those things.”
“How much longer do you have?”
“Just one set of these.”
“Okay, continue. I’ll just stand here and watch.”
I arch a brow, but true to her word, she watches quietly as I finish out my last round of leg presses. In fact, she’s staring so intently I have to grind my molars together to keep from pulling her down on top of me.
Apparently, I’m not the only one struggling. She fans her face and I aim a mocking smile in her direction.
“What?” she groans. “I’m overheated from the class!”
“I didn’t say anything.”
She doesn’t buy it. She throws her hands in the air and turns away, offering me another glimpse of the rear view that’s been killing me all night.
“I’m waiting in the car!”
“You’ll need the keys. They’re over here in my bag.”
She doesn’t turn around as she sends a wave over her shoulder. “I’ll just wait outside then!”
Like hell.
I cut my last set short and take off after her.
On the way home, she’s silent until we pass her favorite ice cream shop and she insists we go in. While we’re sampling flavors she turns to me, blue eyes staring straight at my chest. “Just to be clear, I wasn’t checking you out back there. I was considering the possibility of moonlighting as a personal trainer, now that I’m a gym rat.”
“Noted.”
“And sure, I was sort of impressed by you, that’s all. You’re an impressive guy.”
Still, her gaze won’t meet mine.
“Sam?” I say, trying to ease whatever weirdness is happening between us. “You’re impressive too—so impressive. Really, how’d you get so impressively…impressive?”
She pushes me playfully, turns to the kid on duty, and tells him I’ll be buying her three scoops of chocolate-chocolate-chip ice cream with rainbow sprinkles on top.