Of course, I liked her.
She looked at the cars zooming up and down the street. “I said too much. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m not here to make friends, but, damn, we have to work together. You know? It would make being away from my home a lot easier if we could remain friends. Or friendly. I talk too much. Never mind. I’ll drop it.”
Should I tell her the truth about Nic’s desire to sabotage their findings? I doubted if Jasmine would remember the conversation. Instead, I looked at the ground, hoping that she thought my embarrassment was a consideration of her concerns.
I looked up the street. Hunter and Lilah were at the next block. Lilah’s head rested on Hunter’s forearm.
“Jasmine, we aren’t enemies. Not at all. I think you are an asset to Project Orion. The team loves you. The leadership team respects you. I respect you.”
A shy grin stretched across her face.
And like that, I was all in. I would be an ally, upfront and honest. No more pulling rank or sneak attacks at the behest of Nic. We stood there, staring at each other. I ached to kiss Jasmine’s plump mouth. I felt that she wanted it too. Confusion clouded her expression before she looked around.
“Lilah and Hunter are so far ahead. I guess we should catch up,” she said.
We resumed walking, but in silence, carefully, side-by-side up the three blocks until we reached the entrance of The Langham.
This time, I gathered her in my arms. The hug was incredible, her soft body melted against me. Her arms curled around my chest, and I pressed my nose into her hair, inhaling deeply. It had been a long time since I’d had a woman in my arms, and Jasmine felt like she was made for me. I wanted to kiss her. My fingers burned to grab her ass and draw her even closer. The world faded as the blood raced from my brain down to my cock. In three seconds, I would be hard as fuck. I didn’t care, I had Jasmine in my arms, and my world felt right.
The hug lasted longer than I would have ever imagined, and it only ended after she sniffed my chest and eased away from me.
“Clearly, I’ve had waayyy too much to drink.” She stared into my eyes then shook herself. “I better catch up with Lilah. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She sent me a small wave before she walked through the revolving glass door. I stood in place, staring at her departing back.
What just happened?
The next morning, Jasmine arrived over an hour later than her usual time. She bit her lip, stifling a smile, and plopped her bag on the conference table. She slid into her chair and rested her head in her hand.
I picked up my phone and turned my back to the window. Fingers flying across the screen, I typed out a message.
How are you?
Seconds later, her phone buzzed. She picked it up and walked over to the kitchenette.
I’ve seen better days.
Speaking of better days, Lilah walked into the room. Oversized black sunglasses framed her face. Hunter trailed in a few seconds later.
Not obvious. Not obvious at all.
“I am going to my office for coffee. Does anyone need Advil?” My voice boomed in the nearly silent room. Several people, Jasmine included, nodded.
I returned with a bottle of painkillers. I handed the Advil to Jasmine first. Our fingers accidentally brushed, blazing sparks.
“I hope you feel better.” I smiled down at her.
She poured two tablets from the bottle and passed it to Lilah.
I returned to my seat and texted again, my heart thumping loudly in my head.
Would you like to go out for dinner tonight?
She looked over at me, her eyes expressing confusion. Her fingers tapped against the screen of her phone.
I’d love to, but I have plans.
Questions sprinted through my head. What were her plans? Who was she meeting? A pang of regret filled my chest, I should have asked her out when we were at the HeidelBurger. Before diving deeper into the reasons for the decline, I left and ran to the neighboring gourmet grocer.
I returned to my office with a ribbon tied tower of imported chocolate bars and sent Lilah an instant message inviting her to stop by my office to chat.
Lilah arrived with a notepad and a copy of the project schedule. She wore what Hunter called “business on top and vixen on the bottom.” Lilah liked to wear stilettos and form-fitting skirts. Hunter had tried to act unaffected by the tiny temptress, but anyone with a pair of eyes could see that she’d wrapped him around her little finger.
“This isn’t work-related. Have a seat. Let’s talk.” I gestured to one of the empty chairs in front of my desk.
Her professional armor fell away. “What’s going on, Garrett?”
“I wanted to have a friend-to-friend conversation. I have chocolate,” I offered, thrusting the tower to her. “Have one.”
“Chocolate? Polite conversation? What do you want?”
“What do you and Jasmine have going on this evening?”
“I don’t have any plans with her.”
“Oh.”
“I’ll give you a hint, because I like you. Jasmine goes to one of the SpinCycle boutiques on Wednesday. I don’t understand why she would ever want to do that. I attended a class. I thought that I would die. In fact, I welcomed death.”
As Lilah continued her rant about exercise and group fitness, I leaned into my laptop and googled SpinCycle. Several locations popped up in downtown Chicago.
“Which center?”
“It depends on the playlist.”
Lilah opened a chocolate bar and took a bite, moaning appreciatively. “Mmm. This is delicious.”
“Don’t hold back. Take as many as you’d like.”
“You don’t look like you eat this crap.” She leaned in and whispered, “Garrett, Jasmine is my best friend, and I feel like I know her better than most people. She respects strength.”
She prattled on and on about Jasmine’s needs as I continued to search through tonight’s classes. I had to choose between a Hip Hop themed class at the River North studio and a Beyoncé versus Rihanna mashup in the Loop. Both classes began at 6:30 p.m. There was no way that I could stop by the two studios to check if she was there. If I were Jasmine, what would I do? I took my chance with the Beyoncé playlist. I made an appointment at the center and returned my attention to Lilah.
Jasmine
“Garrett! What are you doing here?”
My shock made the question come out louder and more enthusiastic than I liked. I’d attended classes at this studio for the last month, and I’d never run into him.
With a clenched jaw, Garrett walked over to where I stood, his eyes on me the entire time. I could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He was quiet and tense.
Troy and I were friendly workout rivals, each class we fought to the top of the leaderboard. He was a good-looking guy, and he had great teeth. We’d met for coffee three weeks ago, and I’d hoped for the same heat and intensity that we shared in the studio. The meetup ended without either of us mentioning another date. Yet, we always chatted when we ran into each other at the studio.
To lighten the mood, I turned to Troy. “Troy, this is my fr—Garrett. Garrett, I would like you to meet Troy. Troy likes to lose when we ride.”
My eyes flitted back and forth between them. Both were good looking but in different ways. Mere centimeters separated the two in height. Troy was a lean, pretty boy with warm, dark brown skin and eyes to match. Meanwhile, Garrett was pure sex, muscular body, loads of self-confidence, and manly.
Troy finally broke the silence with a friendly greeting. “Sup, man?”
“Hey,” Garrett gave a bored greeting, never taking his eyes off me. I stared back, unable to stop looking at him. I shivered under the fire and ice of his gaze.
Thankfully, Troy interrupted our stare-off.
“Jasmine, I’m seated in the back. Let’s talk some other time.”
What a weak response. He’d flirted with me for the last three weeks and hadn’t asked for a date. That was the reason I wasn’
t interested.
I turned back to Garrett. “Where did you reserve your seat?”
“In the back. But I’ll be wherever you are.”
“You are aware this is a Beyoncé and Rihanna mashup? People who like their music attend these classes.”
“Yes. I am aware.”
“I thought you were more of a classic rock guy.”
“Jasmine. I’m here for you.” He said plainly and walked over to the bike, leaving me standing there. “How do I get on this thing?”
He’s here for me! My heart sang.
“Have you done a spinning class?”
“No, but I am an athlete and have ridden a bike.”
Amateur. He was in for a big surprise.
“I can get you a pair of padded leggings from my locker if you need it.”
“Fuck. I didn’t think about my balls—um, family jewels. I would like to have children someday.”
“I can flag down Troy. I’m sure he can offer advice on your family jewels.” I said. I was amused when he frowned at the mention of Troy. “Don’t underestimate the workout, Mr. Athlete. We can sit in the back or along the sides if you like. The front row can be a bit intimidating.”
“Jasmine, I’m not a bitch. We sit in the front row.”
“Don’t embarrass me. I have an image to uphold. See that?” I pointed to the large television monitor on the wall at the front of the class. “My name’s permanently etched at the top of the leaderboard.”
“I am certain that I can handle anything you can. I can go for hours and hours. I may even wear you out.”
“I walked right into that one. Don’t be cocky. This is a difficult workout. Let’s clip you in the pedals. Then I’ll walk you through the features of the bike.”
We got his seat adjusted and feet snapped into the pedal cleats. “Pull up your legs like you’re doing knee kicks. Looking good.” I grinned. “Now, here’s the resistance knob. Crank it to the right for a heavier weight. The instructor will tell you when to use it and how much to use. I promise that you will not fall off your bike. If you do, then we don’t know each other.”
“If I fall, you’re going down with me.”
I smiled as I watched him acclimate himself to the bike. He sat tall, stiff and awkward on the seat, and fidgeted with the resistance knobs while pedaling fast. I had to give him props for coming to the class, because he was a fish out of water.
“Don’t forget to wait for me when the class is over. I’ll help you unclip. I don’t want you to go flying into the other bikes. Or worse, see you lace out of the shoes and keep them on the pedals.” I moved to my bike, climbed on, and clipped into the pedals.
At that point, the instructor, Pamela, turned the lights off. The studio was semi-dark, illuminated by a disco ball, candles and led spotlights in each corner. I could make out bodies by the glow-in-the-dark stripes and emblems on their exercise clothing.
Pamela ran into the class to Beyonce’s “Crazy in Love.” The beats of the song thumped off the walls. I scream-sang the opening stanza as she hopped on her bike and began pedaling at a decent clip. The class quickly matched her cadence.
After the opening song, we mashed into Rihanna’s “Umbrella” for the hill climb. We cranked up the resistance on our bikes. The number of singers decreased as the workout amped up. When the energy in the class waned, Pamela hopped off the bike and walked up and down the risers.
She yelled, “Visualize the goal. If you can see it, you can reach it.”
I looked over at Garrett, and he was keeping up.
Pamela continued her inspirational speech. “March it out. March it out together. One-two, one-two.” She walked around. She stood in front of Garrett. “Nice. Very nice.”
Garrett made the workout look effortless, but I was number one on the leaderboard with Troy following closely behind me. Meanwhile, Garrett trailed Troy by seconds.
Finding the strength to push through, I danced in the seat while belting out the lyrics. Telling everyone in the room to respect Beyonce's crown.
“It’s time to work,” said Pamela. The song changed to the infamous Rihanna and Drake duet. If I weren’t on the bike, my hips would have automatically gyrated.
“If the songbird in the front row can warble, that means that I am not working you hard enough.” The class groaned. I smiled and nodded at her.
Pamela continued to bark out instructions. “Out of the saddle. Up and back. Then up and back. Yes! Open your palms and lean over. Squeeze those glutes. Release the resistance. Jog. Jog. Good!”
We spent the next forty-minutes, squatting, bending, and pedaling fast. I remained at the top of the leaderboard the entire class. Then somehow, Garrett moved into second place. I couldn’t let the newbie beat me, I cranked up the resistance and pedaled faster.
At the end of the class, we were both sweaty messes. I clipped out of the bike and landed in front of Garrett.
“Welcome to SpinCycle. You crushed it! Look, you’re right underneath me.” I pointed to the television monitor.
“I like the sound of that.”
I lightly pushed against his chest, heat blazing in my cheeks. I pulled my hand back as if I’d been shocked. My God. The man’s chest was like hard steel. My fingers itched to get another touch.
“And your family jewels are still intact?”
“Yep. I’m unharmed, but I always knew my balls were made of titanium.” He wiped at the sweat on his brow with a towel.
This topic was inappropriate on so many levels. I was sweating like a pig and practically nude in a bra top and form-fitting biking shorts. We shouldn’t talk about something so intimate as Garrett’s balls. I tried to hide my discomfort by changing the subject.
“Garrett, this was so much fun. I need to get a move on if I want to make it to the hotel before dark. I’ll see you at the office.” I grinned, and when I turned to leave, he reached for my hand.
“You shouldn’t walk alone. I’ll go with you.”
“Well, we’d better get going before all the showers are taken. Let’s meet here in fifteen?”
After taking the world’s fastest shower, I changed into a pair of track shorts and a t-shirt and found Garrett standing at the registration desk.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yep. Let’s go.” Before we began our trek, we made a quick stop to a neighboring bakeshop for something sweet. He chose a chocolate Rice Krispies treat, while I had a chocolate cupcake boxed to go.
“This makes the torture worthwhile.” I held up the pink bakery box.
“Jasmine, why spinning?” He took a bite of the bar. “I haven’t had one of these since high school. These are good. Try some.” He held it out for me to take a bite.
“No, thank you. If you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit Type A. With spinning, I can let everything, well some things go.”
“You? Type A? No. I haven’t noticed that at all.” He added a sarcastic grin.
“I don’t want to evangelize. SpinCycle appeals to my goal setting side. After class, I set a target for the next session. Also, I can get away from everything. I know that I have forty-five minutes to myself. You are joining me again, right?” When he looked around and didn’t answer, I nudged him with my elbow. “I’ll see you next week.” After a few steps in the quiet, I cleared my throat. “How did you find me? Let me guess. Delilah Monroe. How did you bribe her?”
“Belgian chocolate. She cleaned me out. It cost a pretty penny, but I would do it again in a heartbeat for the chance to be alone with you. I’ll cut to the chase. I’m interested in understanding what makes you tick. I have an idea, but I feel there’s something more.”
“The ladies at work said . . .” I let my words drift.
“No. I’m not dating anyone or in a relationship. I would like to get to know you on a personal level.”
“The project is going well. Everyone’s getting along. I don’t want our dating to get in the way of that. I’m making a huge assumption that you are interested in dating. Wha
t are your intentions? Do you want to have sex, or are you looking for something more?”
“Yes.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t want to over-complicate it, let’s play it by ear. Sound good?”
I didn’t know what I thought when I nodded. I wasn’t good at playing anything by ear. I liked titles and ground rules. If we would be friends with benefits, I needed to prepare my emotions. If we would be in a relationship, I needed to prepare my life—but I shoved all thoughts and plans to the side when he did the sweetest thing. He moved closer and reached for my hand. Pulling my hand to his lips, he pressed a soft kiss to my knuckle.
I opened my hand and rubbed it over his stubbled cheek before I stood on my tiptoes. We both leaned in until our lips met. The skin where we joined sizzled, firing all of my neurons, sending tiny electrical pulses from my head to my toes.
His hand ran leisurely trails up and down my arms as his tongue licked at my lips, persuading me to let him in. I granted passage, and our tongues met. He tasted like the bar he’d inhaled—cocoa, marshmallows, and Rice Krispies. Sweet. Delicious. As the kiss deepened, I wrapped my arms around his back and kept him in place. Our tongues explored each other’s mouths, and his hands moved from my arms to my back, holding me in place. In response, I moaned loudly.
On the State Street Bridge, with the buzz of the city as our soundtrack, we continued to kiss until the soft groan of pleasure he made knocked us out of our fog. We quickly pulled away from each other, and my chest heaved as he stared down at me.
“I’ve wanted this since the moment I laid eyes on you,” he said.
My heart didn’t just flip, it did a double flip. How had we gotten here? Last week, he’d made my life miserable, and today, we were kissing. My head was in the clouds because the next words from my mouth were cringeworthy.
“So, about that guy Troy. He’s someone that I met in class. We had coffee, but I am not interested.”
“He doesn’t matter to me.”
“I felt you should know.”
“If he were important, then you wouldn’t be here with me.” He raised his eyebrows. “I noticed that you enjoyed our sword fight. Well, my sword is bigger. Much bigger and made with Valyrian steel.” His hand moved from my chin to my neck and down my arms until he laced our fingers. I turned to continue our walk to my hotel, and he pulled me back for another kiss.
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