Page 43 of Of Grief And Gratitude

My head snapped away so fast I was afraid I might have whiplash. “So, where do we start?”

“Where are you most comfortable?” Romeo overwhelmed me with everything he motioned to.

“I don’t know. I’ve never been to a gym.”

“Come again?” It was his turn to gape in disbelief. “You’ve never been to a gym?”

“Not unless you count gym in school,” I answered with a shrug.

Romeo ran a hand over his stubbled jaw. “How do you exercise?”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t,” he repeated, both brows raised. “At all?”

I was pretty sure the portion of the population that frequented gyms was smaller than those of us who preferred the couch and a nice glass of wine. “Not unless you count walking to the coffee shop or having sex.”

He sputtered, and I smiled when his tanned skin flushed. “I don’t usually count those activities. But they’re perfectly pleasant activities. Some might even say pleasurable.”

“Only if you do it right,” I quipped, propping a hand on my hip.

“I do it right,” Romeo rumbled, leaning close. “Well enough to feel you soak my hand.”

“Fuck off with that.” I rolled my eyes. “It had been a while, and I was already on edge.”

“And were you on edge when you watched my video?”

My face heated, and I clenched my butt cheeks to keep from pressing my thighs together. Probably hard enough to burn a few calories. Take that. “I’m not discussing that with you. I can turn around and go home if you want to sit here and act like that.”

“Come on,” he cajoled, brushing the back of his hand down my arm. “Don’t be so uptight. I’m just kidding. Why don’t we start with the treadmill since you have experience walking?”

“Sounds good.” I followed him over to the line of equipment and listened as he explained how a treadmill worked.

“Climb on.” Romeo helped position my feet on the frame surrounding the belt and clipped the safety key to my shirt. “Now, turn it on. Not too much.”

He adjusted the speed and nodded. “That should work. Now you just carefully step onto the belt and walk. Pretend there’s coffee at the end of the road.”

“Shut up.”

“Fine, wine.” He chuckled when I flipped him off and stepped behind me. “Watch where your feet are.”

“I think I can handle walking, thanks.” I stepped onto the treadmill, unprepared for the motion that whisked my foot backward. My scramble to right my body failed, and I went flying, a terrified squeak escaping my lips. My life flashed before my eyes as I seemed to hover in mid-air for a moment. I squeezed my eyes shut, anticipating a hard landing that would break my body.

Strong arms wrapped around my waist. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

“Why didn’t you warn me?” I asked accusingly, panting as the adrenaline made my heart race.

Romeo pressed his lips together, holding in his amusement. “I told you to be careful.”

“That didn’t quite get the gravity of the situation across,” I scolded, ignoring how his fingers had worked under my tank top and pushing him away. “It might have been helpful if you’d told me about the conveyor belt of death.”

“That’s a little dramatic.”

I poked him in the chest. “You didn’t just almost die.”

Romeo had the fucking nerve to laugh at my near-death experience. He looked around and grabbed my hand, pulling me flush against his chest. The scent of his soap and coconut lotion filled my nose. “You’re drawing attention, darling. We’re supposed to be a happy couple, remember?”

I liked him holding me too much, and I wanted to rest my head against his firm chest, but I couldn’t do that. He didn’t resist as I wrapped my arms around him and sighed, savoring a second of our embrace before pulling away reluctantly. A hug was perfectly acceptable in public.

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