Page 8 of Big Built Boss

It doesn’t take me long to get into the flow of everything at the gym. Now that I’ve streamlined the most recent report, I’m spending my time formatting everything else into the same style. It’s boring work, but I’m getting paid well, and my boss is nothing short of eye candy.

Since that kiss Alex and I haven’t had any interactions of note. There’s still a flirty tone to every conversation that we have, but there isn’t any of that closeness that we had before. I’m not afraid to admit that I miss it, but I don’t have any idea of how to initiate anything. The only thing I know how to do is respond, so I’m forced to wait for him.

That’s not an entirely negative thing, though. I’m nothing if not patient. I’ve learned that sometimes good things take time, and something in me tells me that Alex has the potential to be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

After a few uneventful days, I finally work up the confidence to stay late and use the facilities again. It isn’t that I don’t know how to work out, but it’s clear from Alex’s—and everyone else that works here for that matter—that there’s a lot of experiencein this building. I can get away with doing cardio since those machines are pretty straightforward, but I have no idea what to do with the weights. I could probably get away with doing some basic yoga moves too, but I’m by no means an expert.

As soon as I tell the guys I’m done for the day, I head into the locker room and change into the athletic leggings and sports bra I brought along for the occasion. Once I’m dressed and my office clothes are tucked away in a locker, I head out. I take a few minutes to stretch before I hop onto the treadmill and start my normal workout.

Half an hour later, I’m sweating and a little winded when I step off of the machine. Still, I feel like I haven’t done enough. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve done anything more than some yoga in my living room. My body is craving movement.

Slowly, I walk over to the rack of dumbbells and run my fingers over them. If I had any idea of where to start with these, I might pick one up. I don’t even know what an appropriate weight for me would be. I’m too nervous to start picking them up to figure it out.

With a sigh, I head to one of the weight machines. With these, it’s less obvious that I’m a total newbie. I’m free to try different weights, and there are illustrations pasted to the sides of the machines that’ll help with my form, so it’s highly unlikely I’ll hurt myself on this.

I’m in the process of trying to find the correct weight when I make contact with Alex in the mirror. A curious expression flashes across his face. Then, after a moment, he walks away from the desk and makes a beeline for me. I stop what I’m doing, deciding I don’t need him to see how clueless I am.

“Finally taking advantage of one of the perks of the job I see,” he says, stopping in front of me.

I glance up, feeling overwhelmed by how much taller he looks from my seated vantage point. My brain supplies a different image—one with me on my knees and him with significantly less clothing. No matter how hard I try to will it away, it stays burned into my head. In fact, it gets even more clear and vivid.

“Yeah,” I force myself to say, hating that I can’t stop myself from blushing furiously. I wonder if he knows what his proximity is doing to me. “It’s been a little too long since I’ve actually gotten into the gym, so I figured it was time again.”

“You haven’t been exercising?” he asks, the smirk on his face letting me know that he’s at least got an idea of what’s going on in my mind. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

I catch the underlying compliment, and I think I might burst into flames or melt. I’ve never had someone that I’m actually interested in be so forward. It’s exactly what I want, but I don’t really know how to handle it.

“Well, I’ve been keeping up with my yoga at home,” I say, refusing to drop my gaze. The eye contact is electric, and it feels like there’s an entire conversation I’m not privy to happening between us. “The move and finding a job took up more energy than I thought they would.”

“I get that.” He crosses his arms over his chest, making himself look even more imposing. “I’ve never done a cross-country move like you did, but I remember how stressful it was to move out of my parents’ house. I was excited for the freedomthat came with it, but I couldn’t really enjoy it for almost a month after I got the keys to my place.”

I can tell by looking at him he’s much older than me. Maybe in his early forties or late thirties, so I choose not to tell him that I am just experiencing what it feels like to move away from my parents myself. After graduating with my accounting degree, I lived in my parents converted basement apartment while I entered the adult world. Cherrywood Village was as much a chance for a slower pace as it was a chance to get away from my parents and embark on things on my own.

“Settling in takes time,” I agree. Then, because I see an opportunity to learn more about his past, I ask, “So you’ve lived in Cherrywood Village your entire life?”

“I have,” he says, sounding surprised that I’d be asking about him. “I traveled a little in my younger years, but then I took this place over from my dad and now it eats up all my free time.”

“You know, Josh seems capable,” I say, tilting my head back to indicate him. “Maybe you should take a vacation.”

“I’ve thought about it,” Alex admits with a wistful sigh. “Honestly, I think I like being here too much to leave for very long.”

“Nothing’s stopping you from taking a day trip, though,” I point out. “Or even a weekend trip. There’s some gorgeous scenery around here.”

“You’re right. Maybe I’ll have to look into planning something. I’ve never been one to like taking trips alone, though,” he chuckles, uncrossing his arms and putting his hands in his pockets. “So, how’s your workout going?”

“It’s fine,” I say, wondering what his deflection means. Maybe he’s also the kind of person that doesn’t really like talking about himself. “I just finished cardio and thought that I’d try my hand at some of the weight machines.”

“You’ve taken an interest in weight training then?” Alex asks, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you said you didn’t really do that.”

“I don’t,” I admit, finally looking away from him to glance at the pin that I have set in the lowest weight block. “I’m not really sure what I’m doing, but I figured a machine would be the best since it’s fairly difficult to hurt yourself.”

“That’s a fair point,” he hums, tapping his foot softly. I look down at it before dragging my vision up his body. By the time my gaze lands back on his face, he’s got a knowing expression plastered there. He lets the moment sit between us for a moment before he says, “You know, it’s not that hard to get into if you have the right teacher.”

“Oh, really?” I ask. “If I’m being honest, it feels pretty daunting.”

“It is when you don’t know anything about it,” he agrees, turning his head to look at the row of dumbbells behind him. “But once you’ve got the proper form, it’s pretty easy.”

“Maybe I’ll have to find someone to teach me,” I murmur, biting the inside of my cheek.

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