Forbidden - Karla Sorensen Page 0,22
just how mortifying I must have looked, but when she carefully handed me a towel to wipe my face, I knew it was bad.
“Sorry,” he said. “I seem to have a bad habit of taking you by surprise.”
No shit, Sherlock.
I finished wiping my face and glanced at Aiden. “It’s f-fine.”
He watched me set the bottle and the towel down, and when his gaze returned to my face, I saw the slightest hint of amusement.
And that did nothing to lessen my abject humiliation at how stupid and silly I felt around this man.
I took a deep breath and faced him. “Does what rule apply to me?”
He tilted his head to where Mike was stretching out his arms in front of his bag. “What you just told Emily.”
“Most of the time,” I answered honestly. “But Mike doesn’t bother me.”
“Yet.”
I nodded in concession. “Yet.”
“I can revoke his membership if the trainers are uncomfortable around him.”
My eyebrows lifted slowly. “Even if he hasn’t done anything other than being a creep?”
“Even if.”
His brusquely spoken words did nothing to soothe my feathers that seemed to naturally ruffle in his presence. If anything, they made it so much worse. Something about our exchange earlier, the bag, the daughter, the way he came at me head-on. Aiden made me feel like I was all raw, exposed edges, and there was nothing that I hated more. I turned away briefly to grab the microphone battery pack, hook it onto the back of my leggings, and then attach the earpiece around my ear so the mic was in front of my mouth. I made sure it was switched off before I spoke.
“I’ll let you know if it gets to that point.”
Aiden clenched his jaw. “Okay.”
Oh, look at that. I managed one whole conversation with him, and the worst thing that happened was spitting water out of my nose. Things were looking up.
“Did you need something?” I asked.
He glanced over at the racks of merchandise. “New merch should be here in about two weeks.”
“I can have Emily mark this stuff down to half off if you want to move it fast.”
But Aiden shook his head. “Just box it all up.”
“Don’t you want to try to sell it?”
He handed me a slip of paper, and along the top, I saw the logo for the Seattle Youth Sports Foundation. “I’d rather just donate it. They’ll disperse it to various foundations across the state for underprivileged kids. They need the equipment more than I need the money.”
For a moment, I stared at him. The hard line of his profile and the slight bunching of smile lines that fanned along his eyes. Honestly, screw Aiden Hennessy and his big heart and protective gestures and cute daughter and biceps that were the size of my head. This was about to get ridiculous.
“If that’s okay with you,” he said lightly.
Holding his eyes to gauge his sincerity, I found nothing to make me doubt what he was saying. Finally, I nodded.
As I took the paper from his outstretched hand and he walked away after a murmured thanks, I knew if I stayed in this headspace for another week, I’d be head over heels in love with my boss.
I couldn’t predict what he was going to do, what he was going to say, and I found myself waiting with bated breath for whatever came next.
He was locked away in a box of his own, and for the first time, I was the one wanting to dig my fingers in and pry off the top.
Chapter Six
Aiden
“What’s your problem?”
I blinked, glancing over at Clark. He was sitting at my desk, sketching out an idea for adding an open loft space over the main workout area.
“I don’t have a problem.”
Which wasn’t a lie because it wasn’t the right word.
“You look like you have a problem,” he said, pencil flying steadily over his graph paper.
“Why do my little brothers always ask me that when I’m trying to think?”
Clark didn’t hesitate. “Maybe because you look perpetually pissed off when you’re thinking too hard.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I turned my attention back toward the middle of the gym where Isabel was leading a class.
She moved in and out of the bags, shouting encouragement and occasionally stopping to help someone. Her hair, as always, was slicked off her face, and when she dropped to the floor to demonstrate something she wanted, it was long enough over her shoulder that it almost brushed the floor.
Wonder Woman, Anya had called her. And she’d asked her if