This bodes well for the Three Days.
“Slip off your shoes here, and then Britt will show you the locker room,” he says as Brittni rounds the corner.
She looks startled. “Oh, yes. I’d be happy to.” She swallows, letting her gaze linger on Dane before snapping to mine. “Right this way.”
I take off my shoes and add them to the pile by the bench. Then I turn to follow Brittni. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Dane watching me with a smirk.
What have I gotten myself into?
Two
Kaylee
This isn’t awkward at all. I fight an eye roll.
Brittni pops a hand on her narrow hip. “That’s it. Do you have any questions?”
Many, but none that I really want to ask.
“Nope. I think I’m good,” I say. “I just come in, pick a locker, and I’m free to shower when I’m done. That’s the door for the pool. Don’t forget my fob, which you will give me when I leave.”
I’m not sure if she thought I ignored the spiel that she breathed out in five seconds or what, but she looks surprised.
“Yeah. That’s it.” She raises a brow. “Well, let’s go find Dane. I’m assuming he’ll give you the tour. Just make sure you see me before you leave so I can have you sign a couple of things and give you the fob.”
I nod.
Satisfied, she heads for the door. I follow.
“You’ll love Dane,” Brittni says over her shoulder. “Everyone requests him.”
I bet they do.
“But he very rarely takes on new clients.” She presses the door open. “Consider yourself lucky.”
Not the word I’d use, but okay, lady.
Dane is standing on the large oval track that encircles the room, talking to an old man wearing a knee brace. I caught a glimpse of the silver-haired gentleman as we walked into the locker room and wondered how walking like a speed demon would be good on a knee that requires a brace?
But what do I know?
The gym is bright, thanks to a wall of windows on the opposite side of the building. A black metal staircase connects the gym’s two levels together. Bright-colored yoga balls are in the middle of the track, and a host of treadmills line the wall facing the glass. It’s clean and organized and not quite as scary as I imagined.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Brittni says, casting a quick glance at her boss. “Don’t forget to see me before you leave.”
“I will. Thanks for your help.”
She snaps her gum, gives me a nod, and then moseys her way back to the reception area.
Dane pats the old man on the shoulder. Then, before I’ve had time to totally acclimate to my surroundings, he comes my way.
“So, how’d that go?” he asks, stopping inches in front of me. His cologne whispers through the air. “Did Brittni show you everything?”
“The locker room was very nice.”
He makes a face and laughs. “That’s it? No comment about the pool? It’s one of our biggest selling points.”
“I didn’t look at it. I’ve already paid the deposit,” I say, talking louder to override his apparent objection. “I’m sure it’s great.”
There’s no way I’m getting in a bathing suit in front of you, dude.
He crosses his arms over his chest and peers down at me. I have no idea how anyone can stay focused on anything when he looks at them. His eyes are so deep, so dark, they almost drag you into their depths. It’s impossible to look away.
“You don’t like to swim?” he asks.
“I didn’t say that. I just … I haven’t swum in a long time.”
“Okay, but do you like to swim?” he asks again.
I reach for my bag—needing to fiddle with the strap, only to remember that I left it in a random locker.
“Maybe I do. I don’t know. I liked to swim when Anna was a baby, so I’m leaning toward yes. In theory,” I add, just in case he has plans on adding swimming to the Three Days. “I have never liked chlorine. It makes me itchy.”
I’m not sure how to read his reaction. Brows pulled together, lips twisted into something barely reminiscent of a smile, and a light in his eyes that feels nothing but intense—I don’t know whether to keep talking to fill the space between us or to just pivot and go.
Before I can decide on my best course of action, he motions for me to follow him.
“That’s the track,” he says, pointing at the obvious black oval that runs around the room. “You can come and walk or run at any time.” He looks at me over his shoulder. “You could also lunge around it if you were so inclined.”
“I’m not.”
He laughs. “Then you probably won’t be into the treadmills over there.”
“Definitely not.”
“The yoga balls and other equipment were from the class that ended a few minutes ago,” he says, rolling right over my answer as though he already knew it was coming. “There are a host of classes you could take too. Yoga, tai chi, Pilates, muy tai.”