Occasionally, he'd lay a hand on my back or hip to move one of my legs with a gentle correction and suggestion of how to position my body. Every time he did it, I felt the spread of his fingers over my skin and breathed a little faster.
They weren't sexual touches. He never lingered. The touches were brief, they had a purpose, and I wanted to cry at how they made me feel.
It was embarrassing enough to have to literally crawl on my hands and knees in front of this person, but every time he touched me, I desperately wished I could transform those touches into something else. Something more.
I got to the bottom of the ramp, sweat pooling underneath my shirt and the backs of my legs quivering from the effort of what I was doing, when he asked me to lift my right arm.
"There you go, straight out from the shoulder." He set his hand over my shoulder, and I closed my eyes.
His hands felt all wrong.
This wasn't how I imagined it, and I wanted it to feel how I imagined it. I wanted strong touches, fingers brushing over my skin with a different purpose in a way that lingered and luxuriated. No one had ever luxuriated over anything of mine.
"Come on, keep your focus," he said, taking his hand off my shoulder when I wobbled.
"Easy for you to say," I mumbled. "You're not on all fours like a freaking dog."
He chuckled. "Okay, drop your hand. I'll help you over."
Once I'd braced my hand on the ramp again, I hung my head and took a few deep breaths. "I hate this ramp."
"Most people do," he agreed easily. "But it'll get easier if you start doing more leg exercises like leg presses and hamstring curls. There are so many things you can do at the gym, Joss."
I glanced over at him. "I know."
"Then why aren't you doing them?"
His question held no censure. Not an ounce of accusation. Hidden beneath the layers of professional curiosity, I heard the steel behind it.
"You sound like my best friend," I gave, instead of an answer. "He always wants me to work out with him."
Andrew nodded. "You should." He lifted an eyebrow. "And not just your upper body. Pretty sure you could take me in an arm wrestling match."
I laughed because his arms were about three times the size of mine, so we both knew the likelihood of that happening was slim.
"I'm serious, Jocelyn. If your friends want to help, you should let them."
With a smile, I gave him a tiny salute. "Yes, sir."
He held out a hand, and I took it so I could lower myself more easily onto one hip. Once I was sitting, he moved back, and I turned my legs so that my knees were up. My feet, clad in my bright white Adidas sneakers, stared uselessly back up at me.
"My shoes always stay perfectly clean," I said without even realizing the thought had popped in my head.
"I'm sure they do." He leaned down to grab an exercise band, which I curled my lip at. I hated those things too. "I had a client last year, eighty years old, and she refused to wear anything but high heels except for her PT visits, because why wouldn't she? She didn't have to worry about falling over since she couldn't actually walk in them."
I laughed. "Good point. I still go for sneakers because that's all I wore. Before," I added needlessly.
"Nothing wrong with that." He twirled the band in a circle. "Come on, I'll let you off the hook early. You did good work today."
Exhaling heavily, I smiled before using the bars installed on either side of the ramp to hoist myself up. Thankfully, my chair was close because holy shit, my legs were sore.
"I hate to say this, Andrew, but I will probably wake up tomorrow cursing your name."
His laughter echoed through the empty office. "I can accept that."
I wheeled myself back out to the car with plans to be back the next week at the same time. With the chair tossed in the back, it took all my strength to focus on taking strong, even steps back to my seat after the work I'd done on that evil effing ramp. Despite that, despite the labor I'd done, I sat in the driver's seat and stared out the windshield, a current still humming unchecked under my skin.
Unspent energy that had nothing to do with the physical efforts he'd just put me through, and it needed to go somewhere.
I dug my phone out of my backpack and pulled up Levi's number, tapping out a quick text before I started my car. Maybe I wasn't supposed to just work my upper body, but I wanted something that made me feel strong. Something that I control and master and dominate.
Me: Meet me at the gym in 30 minutes?
He answered immediately.
Levi: The actual gym or the house?
I dropped my head and considered the options. The Buchanans had a pretty epic home gym, and since it would just be just Levi and me, there would be no watching eyes and no judgment. But no smoothies either, I thought with a pout.
Sighing, I knew which one would win.
Me: The house. But you owe me a smoothie since your commute is a thirty second walk.
Levi: Your wish is my command.
After I finished picking out the perfect eye roll GIF, I threw the car into reverse and started in the direction of Green Valley.
Chapter 10 Levi
“Idiot, idiot, idiot," I whispered under my breath, though the sound of the blender drowned it out. As soon as I got her text, I almost fell over as I stripped out of my regular clothes and into mesh shorts.
