Forbidden - Karla Sorensen Page 0,15

it. Let them believe it.

“Fine.” Molly sighed. “Let’s get this done so she can go back and hide from him for the rest of the day.”

With a deep breath, I shoved down everything they’d just brought up. Way, way down. “You’re going to be missing your maid of honor if you keep this shit up.”

Molly held up her hands. “Fine, fine. I’m done. Ladies, show me what you’ve got.”

Chapter Four

Isabel

Until I started working at the gym, leading classes, and working with clients, I never understood exactly how deep my sadistic streak went. But when one of my favorite clients limped up to me after class, shirt soaked with sweat, it was the only time in my life I was all hearts and rainbows and smiles.

Sally’s eyes narrowed in a glare. “I don’t know who hurt you, Isabel, but I can’t tell whether I should set you up with my therapist or give you a hug.”

I laughed, running my sweat towel along the back of my neck. “Is that your way of saying you liked my class today?”

As she dumped her gloves and tangled hand wraps back into her bag, she snorted. “Something like that.”

“I added those extra burpees just for you.”

Straightening slowly, she rolled her eyes and slung her bag over her shoulder. “Next time? Don’t.”

“Bye, Sally.”

She waved.

My mood felt light, probably because I’d yet to see any glimpse of Aiden. For the day, at least, my office was my own. And it wasn’t like his presence weighed me down; it was simply that added awareness and the way my skin vibrated at a different frequency when he was in the building. It was something I was going to have to get over because Aiden Hennessy was here to stay.

A college-aged girl approached as I started wiping down the bag I’d used during class. She slipped in just before I started, so I didn’t get a chance to speak with her like I liked to do with new members.

“What’d you think?” I asked her.

She exhaled a small laugh. “That was … intense. But one of the best workouts I’ve ever had.”

“Excellent.” I held out my hand. “I’m Isabel, the manager.”

“Brenleigh.” She pointed at the ring in the center of the gym. “I was just glad you didn’t make us hop up in there for some ass-kicking.”

“Nah, we wait until at least your second class for that. You bought the ten-class punch card, right?”

Brenleigh nodded. “I came in yesterday after I saw one of your Insta posts about the special you’re running.” Her cheeks were already flushed from class, but when she glanced around, the red deepened even further. “Is it true that Aiden Hennessy is the new owner?”

“That is true. We’re very excited to work with him.”

Excited. Terrified. Hiding from him. Whatever.

She licked her lips and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Is he, like, taking one-on-one clients or anything? You know, like, private training sessions.”

Ahh. The fangirls were starting to descend. Now this was something I hadn’t anticipated. I knew he had plans to do some training sessions, but no formal coaching like some speculated he might after he retired. So a co-ed coming in and asking for private sessions … that was not in my managerial wheelhouse. It wasn’t in my personal wheelhouse either. My ability to fake it with people was about as stellar as my cooking skills.

I sucked at both.

Now that I looked at her more carefully, she was wearing one of those sports bras that wasn’t really a sports bra, the kind that flashed more cleavage than a Victoria’s Secret ad.

Gawd, I sounded like such a judgy bitch. So I softened my smile. “Not that I know of, but he’s still getting settled. I’m sure in the next few weeks we’ll know a lot more. If he decides to take on clients, we’ll definitely post about it on our social, so keep an eye out.”

There. I sounded polite. Professional. Go me.

Brenleigh and her cleavage leaned in toward me. “What’s he like?” she asked, big brown eyes wide.

I paused. What did she want me to say?

“He seems very nice,” I answered diplomatically.

“I hope he’s not like, too nice.” She grinned. “What a disappointment, right? He can be hard on me any day.”

Then she bit down on her lip and giggled.

And it was the giggle, along with the criminal overuse of the word like, that had me imagining what it would be like for Brenleigh if I like, elbowed her in the face.

It wasn’t her fault,