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kill you if you hurt her, but she’s an adult and can make her own choices. Just be sure to wrap your dick.” He shuts the door before I can even respond.
    I bang my head on my desk in quick succession. I feel like I’m back in high
    school stuck in the locker room after watching the cheerleaders practice. Every guy got a stiffy for them, especially our freshman year, except she’s not a cheerleader. She’s a ballerina with a smoking hot body, killer eyes and thinking about her makes me hard. I can’t even consider the fact that she’s one of my best friends’ sister. The only thing that matters is that she’s leaving, and I’m not into long distance romances, Skyping and waiting in overcrowded airports. I want the real thing, in living color.
    After the last gym member leaves, I shut off the lights. All this week I’ve let my staff leave early so they can finish their Christmas shopping or prepare their holiday meals. My mom used to start baking the week before Christmas so I know what it’s like. I didn’t cut any hours; everyone has been working during the day, which has proved
    beneficial since the gym is spotless, all the equipment is cleaned and we’re fully stocked for the New Year.
    The chime on the door signals, telling me that someone has just walked in. It
    would’ve made sense that I locked the door when I turned off the lights, but any sense I had today has been living in my nether region.
    “We’re closed,” I yell out as I walk around the corner. I stop dead in my tracks
    when I see Yvie standing in the middle of the gym glowing like an angel thanks to the street lights shining in from outside. She’s carrying a plate in her hands and is looking everywhere but at me.
    “I didn’t realize you closed so early.”
    I shrug and take a few steps toward her. The smell of brownies, cookies and all-
    round goodness meets my senses, reminding me that it’s been years since I’ve had
    someone bake for me.
    “I thought people needed time to shop and didn’t want them to feel guilty that
    they hadn’t worked out so I’m closing early this week.”
    Yvie nods and continues to look past me. “These are for you. The kids and I were
    baking and I thought . . . I don’t know, it’s probably stupid. I don’t really eat sweet things because I’m always watching my weight–”
    “You don’t need to.” That statement gets her attention, and her eyes meet mine.
    There’s a small hint of a smile, but it quickly fades. This woman has been damaged, and it makes me see red. No man, regardless of his position, should ever tell a woman she’s fat. Curves or no curves, women are beautiful.
    Yvie walks to the counter and sets down the plate. I’m tempted to rush over,
    snatch it from her hands and rip off the cover. I have a feeling she’s a damn good cook in the kitchen, which is one reason she worries so much about keeping her weight down.
    “I should probably go. I have to find a place to practice. I thought I could
    convince myself I need a vacation, but I find myself needing to go through my routine.”
    Yvie looks away and sighs. ”I’m sorry, you didn’t need to hear me ramble. I’ll let you finish closing up.
    “Wait,” I say, reaching out to stop her. Our hands touch and the hairs on my arm
    stand. My skin instantly feels clammy, and if I didn’t know any better I’d think I’m sick, but that’s not the case right now.
    “You can practice here. I have the mirrors and can move some of the equipment to
    give you space.”
    I don’t give her a chance to tell me no. I set off and start moving as much as I can without assistance. I’m by no means a weight lifter, but the adrenaline pumping through me right now is giving me enough force to move mountains.
    Sweat beads form on my forehead and neck. I pull my shirt off to wipe my face, neck and back. Her gasp freezes my actions. I pull my shirt away slowly and drop it to the floor.
    The air in the room is thick, laden with tension still