Page 54 of Worth the Risk

“Yeah, totally.” My smile has to be outrageous right now because it’s stretching my cheeks past their comfort. Not because I’m that excited to go to a cycle class with Austin but because I have no idea what I’m getting myself into.

“Okay,” he says again, neither of us moving away from the other. He looks past me into my office for a second, his gaze falling to the edge of my desk where I was standing when he first kissed me.

“I should—” I gesture toward my office just as he reaches up to run both hands through his hair.

“Fuck,” he groans in a low voice that is reminiscent of yesterday. “Yeah, get in your office.” He presses against my back, ushering me through my doorway. “Before I fuck everything up again.”

When my door slams behind me, I can’t keep myself from smiling. All that self-talk I did this weekend, all that back and forth about whether I could let myself fall for Austin, if it was a bad idea or not, threatening to slide right out of my head the second I saw him.

They don’t call it a battle between your head and your heart for nothing. The problem isn’t that my head and heart want two different things… it’s that they both want the same thing and I’m terrified of what will happen once I have it.

“You’ve been to Cycle Mania before, right?” Cherry, the enthusiastic instructor, pops her gum.

“Oh, yeah, yeah. I think a long time ago.” I’ve never been to any sort of cycle class and judging from how loud the music is already bumping and the general energy of the room, I’m guessing I have no idea what I’m in for.

“Okay, great.” She flashes her perfectly straight veneers. “We are Chicagoland’s premier cycle bar and we do offer a towel and free shoes for all guests. We like to pride ourselves on not just being a workout but more like an entire spiritual journey. What shoe size are you?”

“Uh, seven.”

“Here.” She hands me a pair of shoes. “There are lockers to put your things in and I’ll show you how to get strapped into your bike if you follow me.”

I glance around the crowd of people coming in and out of the studio, hoping to find a glimpse of Austin.

“Tonight’s class is a charity event, so we are completely booked.” I follow her inside the studio to a bike in the very front row next to the instructor.

“Oh, is that the spot I booked?” I nervously look back at the room, a sea of faces already in their bikes, staring back at me.

“Unfortunately, yes.” She giggles. “We call this the hot seat. Since you booked late.”

Great, now my humiliation tonight will be on full display.

Her smile fades and she grabs my hand. “Like I said, let this class be your spiritual journey. It’s not a competition, even though everyone’s name and performance will be on the bigscreen up front during the class. Let this just be about you finding yourself.”

“On that screen?” I point to the large TV just over my head.

“Yes, and all the smaller screens around the room. Hey, Tonya!” She waves to another woman who has just walked in. “I hope you’re ready because tonight’s class is going to kick your ass!”

“Hey.” Austin appears next to me. “I’m on the bike over there, in the back.”

He points to the far corner, my eyes instantly drawn to his exposed arm, the t-shirt he’s wearing allowing for a glimpse of his side from the large holes where the sleeves have been ripped off. My mouth goes dry when he lifts the bottom of his shirt to wipe at his face. “I was just warming up a little.” A smattering of dark hair trails from his belly button to beneath his waistband.

“I’m, um…” I point to the bike I’m standing next to, hoping he didn’t notice me staring. “I’m here. I guess that’s what I get for signing up late.”

“You’ll just give the guys in here some motivation throughout class.” He nods toward my outfit of a sports bra and matching spandex shorts.

“What? It’s what I wear to yoga.”

“You do a lot of up and down stuff in yoga? A lot of fast-paced bouncing around?”

“No.” I crinkle my nose. “Why?”

“No reason.” He smirks as Cherry’s voice breaks over the speaker system.

“Okay, maniacs, two minutes till class starts. Let’s get strapped in and ready to rock!”

“Come on, let me help you.” I follow Austin’s guidance, placing my riding shoe on the pedal and snapping it into place. I repeat the process on the other side, adjusting myself on the seatand trying not to notice the way his warm fingers press into my thigh as he guides my movements.

“How’s that feel?” he asks after adjusting the seat.

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