Forbidden - Karla Sorensen Page 0,16
not really, because what Miss Brenleigh and her strappy bra and her burning curiosity did was nothing more than hold a mirror up in front of my face. Something about him turned me a little crazy and made me feel like I was Brenleigh. A caricature of the worst side of me.
The silly, unsubstantial side.
Even though it killed me to do so, I kept my smile firmly in place. “Are there any other questions about the workout today? I’d be happy to review anything since I didn’t get a chance to talk to you before class started. Normally, I’d go over the basic moves if this was your first time.”
She waved a hand in the air. “Nah, I’m good. Will he like, be here tomorrow if I come back for your four o’clock class?”
“I couldn’t say. He doesn’t have a set schedule.” I shrugged. “Perks of being the owner.”
Brenleigh sighed. “I guess. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks!”
And she bounced off. Actually, physically bounced. I pinched the bridge of my nose.
As she walked toward the front, where she sat on a bench to change her shoes, I did a lap around the bags, snagging two water bottles that had been left behind and a few wipes dumped just outside the garbage container. Only a few people were using the weight machines, with one person on the treadmills facing the TV Amy had installed a couple of years earlier.
My office was quiet when I walked in, and when I took a deep breath, I caught the slightest whiff of something masculine.
I sank into the chair and dropped my head in my hands. He wasn’t even here, and I could smell him. That was when I noticed the sweatshirt folded on the edge of my desk. He was wearing it at the meeting and must’ve left it. My fingers reached for the edge, tugging it toward me before I thought too hard about what I was doing.
The shirt was well-loved. A faded logo of a California gym on the front, the seams of the front pocket were ripped at the edges.
When I lifted it toward my face and took a deep inhale to see if that was the source of the smell, I shoved it back into place with a groan before I could go any further down this crazy-ass rabbit hole.
I know you don’t know me, but I’m sixteen, and I think you’re amazing, and even though I’m younger than you, I know we’re meant to meet.
My eyes pinched shut, and my heart raced uncomfortably when I thought about that silly, silly letter, folded carefully and locked inside the metal box.
I was no better than the bouncing co-ed fangirl and her substandard bra and her giggles and her like. Sitting up straight, I took a deep breath and stared hard at my own reflection in the glass overlooking the gym.
No more, I thought. No more sniffing. No more butterflies. No more wondering when he was going to come in or obsessing about whether we’d share space or he’d buy coffee. No more tripping at his feet or childish displays to make me feel better about my embarrassment.
“Isabel Ward,” I said, “get your shit together. This is fucking ridiculous.”
Sweatshirt back in place, I made the chair spin from standing too quickly and marched out of my office. With only one more class on the schedule for the rest of the day and no training sessions of my own, the gym would most likely be quiet for the next couple of hours.
It was easy to keep myself busy, and I popped in one earbud so I could listen to some music without missing anything that might need my attention.
Exiting the now cleaned women’s bathroom, I did a quick scan of the gym, something I did constantly when I was the only person working, and noticed that the gym was empty. A glance at the digital clock on the wall told me it would probably stay that way until we got our usual post-work day group.
Which was why I stopped short as a young girl sprinted across the room, white-blond hair flying, and then shimmied straight up one of the heavy bags until she’d hooked her tiny arms over the top and hoisted herself up onto the iron beam that held the entire rack in place.
In no more time than it took me to blink, she’d climbed to the top of the beam, where she now sat perched, legs swinging like she didn’t have