Page 12 of Easy To Lose

Chapter 10

Morgan

I’ve been dreading this all day. As much as I want to lose weight, the idea of working out has always scared the crap out of me. The thought of running, jumping, or even stretching in public is utterly terrifying. But add Owen to that, watching me? It’s possibly my worst nightmare.

I take a deep breath, grab the duffle bag I brought to work with me this morning, and head toward the front door. I do one last sweep, making sure that all the lights are off, and as I take in the store, I can’t help but smile. The place looks amazing. Racks of clothing, hats on every shelf, and shoes everywhere. It’s a girly-girl’s dream, and I hope Charly approves when she comes into town in a few days.

The moment I shut the door and lock it behind me, I hear a throat clear. I look to my right as Owen leans against the brick wall that separates our buildings.

“You ready?” he asks as I take in his backwards ball cap, oversized white t-shirt, and basketball shorts. The more I’m around Owen, the more I realize that he doesn’t wear much else. But to be honest, I’m not complaining.

“As I’ll ever be,” I mumble, making my way to him and feeling the butterflies in my stomach take flight. Owen must notice my apprehension because before he opens the door to the gym, he stops me, grips both of my shoulders in his hands, and then leans down so his eyes are level with mine.

“I want you to know that there is no judgement when you walk through that door. I will never think less of you if you can’t do something, I will never comment on your weight—good or bad—because that’s not why we’re here. I am here to help you get to where you want to be, not where I think you should be. Okay?” I nod my head, but my hands start to shake nonetheless. “Morgan. You have nothing to be ashamed of or scared of, okay? If it makes you feel better, we can always meet at night when no one is in the gym. Whatever makes you the most comfortable.” God, he’s being so sweet. And the longer I stare into his eyes, the more I want to believe that the feelings he had for me back in high school aren’t gone. That he still feels that way. But then I remember that he has a girlfriend, and I push all those things aside.

“What about Bailey?” I ask. His head tilts to one side as if he’s questioning why I would bring her up. “Won’t she be upset that you’re spending all this time with me after you close?” He gives me a huge smile, something I did not expect.

“I’m not with Bailey anymore,” he says casually as he opens the gym door and motions for me to enter in front of him. But I don’t. I just stand there, dumbfounded that he just blurted that out as if it doesn’t change everything.

“What? What do you mean you’re not with Bailey anymore?” He shakes his head, placing a hand on the small of my back as he pushes me through the door.

“It means…I’m not with Bailey anymore,” he states matter-of-factly, shutting the door behind us and locking it, making sure no strays come in after hours. “You should go get changed. The locker rooms are back there.” He points to a hallway to my left, and I give him a curt nod. If he doesn’t want to elaborate, then I won’t ask—even though that’s all I want to do.

I head into the locker room, change into new yoga pants—since that seems to be my daily wardrobe right now—and a sports bra. I walk out of the changing space and face the mirror, and my heart sinks. The extra skin on my arms, the bulging area between my sports bra and high-waisted pants. These are all things I notice every day and seem to ignore, but right now? In this fluorescent lighting, they are all I can see. I head back to my bag, grab a loose-fitting t-shirt, and throw it on.

“You okay in there?” Owen yells from down the hall. I yell back that I’m fine, but when I make my way back to where he’s waiting for me, I realize that I’m not. And I won’t be if he continues standing there looking like a tall drink of water. The man shed his shirt, and his spectacular abs are on full display. My eyes have no choice but to soak in every inch of his tanned skin, his sculpted chest, and those sexy v-shaped muscles that lead the eyes straight to his…

“Morgan?” My eyes snap up to meet his, a knowing smirk tracing the edges of his lips as I blush scarlet. Of course, he would catch me staring. But I mean…who wouldn’t? The man is easy to look at.

“Ready,” I choke out, wondering if he notices the change in my voice. Owen just smiles and gestures for me to follow him farther into the gym where he’s laid out a set of mats.

“Okay, so I want to begin with some stretching.” When I give him a skeptical look, he rolls his eyes and sits down next to me. “I want to make sure your muscles are warmed up. I’m guessing you haven’t done much weightlifting lately?” He arches his eyebrow, and I chuckle to myself as I shake my head. “That’s what I thought. If you don’t warm up your muscles beforehand, you’ll be susceptible to pulling or tearing one when we start the actual workout.” I nod, following his moves as he takes me through some basic stretches.

After ten minutes of stretching, he tells me to stand, and we do a few more things before he takes me to a treadmill.

“So, I’m going to start you off at a slow pace and increase the speed every few minutes. I want you to keep your hands on the sensors right here.” He points to the handlebars in front of me, and I look at him, confused. He laughs as he takes my hands and places them on the bars. “They monitor your heart rate. I would usually take your weight and height before this, but from the panicked look you just gave me, I’m guessing you would rather not do that today.” I shake my head. I know it will help him, but I’m not ready for that burst of reality yet. “That’s fine. I’ll just ballpark it for now.” I nod as he presses a few buttons and the belt under my feet starts moving.

“So, how long did it take for you to get this place up and running?” I ask, hoping to distract myself from the fact that Owen is still shirtless, and my fingers want to run down the center of his abs and finally figure out where those v-shaped muscles lead.

“About five years. Matt and I met in College. We were both there on football scholarships and figured out pretty early that we weren’t meant to go pro. This was our backup.” I nod as he looks at my heart rate, types something into his phone, and then ups the speed on the treadmill. “So, what about you? Why did you leave New York? It was always your dream to live in the Big Apple and become a designer.” I laugh softly to myself, remembering my dreams from high school and knowing that they crashed and burned way faster than expected.

“Turns out, you have to be good at drawing for that to work.” Owen chuckles to himself, and I almost trip over my feet as he gifts me with that smirk that he always reserved for me when we were kids. Seeing it now sends shivers through my entire body.

“Want to tell me why you want to lose weight all of a sudden? I know the guy from last night said some pretty nasty things, but I also know there has to be more to it than one douche.” He ups the speed one more time, and I try to catch my breath. But the longer I walk on this thing, the harder talking becomes. Owen seems to sense this and takes one last look at my heart rate and then stops the machine.

“To be honest, I’ve always been ashamed of my weight, even in high school.” He scoffs as I get off on the machine with wobbly legs and pick my water bottle up off the floor.

“You were not fat in high school.” I roll my eyes and lean against the wall, trying to catch my breath.

“You might think that, but everyone else saw something completely different. Including my fiancé back in New York, who decided to ditch me on my birthday to instead fuck a woman from work. And the best part? I walked in on them doing it in our kitchen, and he had the audacity to blame me. Said that without him, I was just a sad, fat girl.” The moment those words come out of my mouth, Owen’s face changes. His eyes narrow, and he cages me against the wall, his arms on either side of my head.

“Morgan, look at me.” I audibly swallow as his face gets closer and closer to mine, causing our gazes to meet. “Are you a size two? No.” My eyes lower because all I can picture is Bailey and her tiny waist and perfect arms, knowing that’s Owen’s type—and I am so far from that. But he surprises me because one of his hands falls from the wall and grazes the side of my thigh. I take a shuddering breath as I lift my eyes. “You are not a size two because you are a woman, Morgan. You have curves.” His fingers dance along the hem of the loose shirt hanging past my hips. “And that means there’s more for a man to hold onto…” His voice lowers, and a gruff-sounding growl escapes as his hand reaches under the fabric and finds the bare skin of my rib cage.

“Owen…” I murmur as his fingers grip even tighter, his lips tracing the edge of my jaw, causing my whole body to collapse against the wall behind me. “What are you doing?” I ask, not really knowing if I want to hear the answer or if I want him to continue doing exactly what he is.

He doesn’t answer my question, he just leans his head against the wall beside mine, his hand traveling to my lower back and pulling me against him.

“I know you wore this shirt to hide from me.” I gasp as his fingers grip the softness of my skin. “I want you to know that what’s under this shirt is nothing to hide, baby. It’s fucking sexy as hell.” My heart leaps into my throat as my mouth opens to say something, anything, but no sound comes out. Did Owen just tell me he thinks I’m sexy? That can’t be right...can it?

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