I make a meal out of getting on the machine and beginning to climb, exaggerating every movement and watching his jaw flex in the wall of mirrors. "So, Damien..." Discreetly, I slip my phone out of my sports bra, setting it in the cup holder of the stair climber, facing it in the direction of the squat rack. "Do you work today?"
"Yes," he growls, tearing his gaze off my bottom, walking to a shelf near the door and chugging a full bottle of water without coming up for air. The thing between his legs is no longer a pendulum. Ah, no. It's pushing against the front of his sweatpants like an extended fist. "I'll be back for dinner. You're going to stay out of trouble while I'm gone."
"There go my plans," I quip, sending him a teasing look over my shoulder.
The water bottle pauses on its way b
