Sweet Curves – Sweet Enough to Eat

Rise had been on the rise ever since.

It just sucks that it meant I had less time to do what I loved, teaching people how to master their bodies and work out like the beasts they are inside.

The soft jingle of the main doors echoed through my office then, and I peered out of the crack of my office door to catch a glimpse of the newest client. We didn’t generally accept walk-ins because we were pretty constantly packed, but this was our first week staying open late and, without much advertising, the trickle for late night gym-goers was slow but steady.

“Excuse me?” A voice close in caliber to a mouse hit my ears before a woman came into view.

A beautiful woman. She looked like my old high school crush.

I swallowed when she helped herself into my office, her body, head to toe, now visible. She was curvy, classically beautiful with soft waves over one shoulder and features that nailed me in the gut like a left hook.

I cleared my throat, “Hello?”

“Hi.” She smiled, eyes darting around the walls to take in the various accolades and news clippings that featured Rise. “I need a personal trainer.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Sorry, I don’t really accept walk-in sessions…”

When I spoke the words her eyes finally landed on mine. Like icy blue fire that stung with a single glance. I stood, coming around the desk to get a little closer. “Wait a minute–do we know each other?”

“Umm…” she tipped her head to the side, lips working back and forth before her eyes cast down. “Never mind, I’ll find another gym.” She was already turning to go, clutching her big ass purse to her body as if to shield my gaze.

“Wait,” I stretched a hand out, catching her tenderly at the elbow, “Katie?”

Her eyes shot wide open then, like a deer caught in the headlights. “Uh…hi, Sawyer, great to see you again, but really I don’t want to keep you, you look busy and–”

“Hey, hey, never too busy for an old friend.” The truth was, we’d been way more than friends. So much more I’d be lying if I said she hadn’t crossed my mind quite a few times in the five years since our high school graduation.

“Sit, please, it’s been…a really long time.” I clamped down on my lips, unwilling to say more.

“Long time,” that shy but toothy smile crossed her face and flashed me back to every hot summer night of my high school years. Regret washed in tidal waves through me when I thought about Katie Wilder.

The one that got away.

“So what have you been up to?” I sat back behind my desk, regretting the distance between us, even if it was only twenty-four inches. Twenty-four inches of torture after five years apart.

“I opened my own bakery, it’s not far from here.”

“Wait, you’ve been right here? This whole time?”

“For the last couple of years.” She stood then, clutching her bag even tighter to her waist. “I should go.”

“No, please, don’t. Let’s talk about what brought you in here, you said you need a personal trainer? It just so happens that’s my specialty.”

“Come on, you little sissy, ten more chin-ups or I’m posting this video on social media so everyone can see you whining.”

Katie’s eyebrows about shot off her face.

“I promise I won’t throw you to the wolves. Jocko has a way about him, but if you stop by during the day it’s pretty clean around here. Jocko only works his clients after hours.”

She nodded, looking seriously shaken. By me? Jocko’s drill sergeant style? I wasn’t sure. “I would rather not work out during the day, I don’t want people to see me doing…that.” A tortured look crossed her face as she looked back at Jocko and his client again. “Plus, I’m at the bakery all day, so…”

I nodded, popping the p when I said, “Perfect.”

“Perfect?” She asked wearily.

“We just extended into nighttime hours, maybe that’s why we haven’t ran into each other before now.” My eyes landed on her pillowy lips, soft and so ready for my teeth to sink into.

I felt something stir behind my athletic shorts, my ability to keep myself under control already waning. Katie had an effect on me–she did then, and she did sitting before me now. Nothing had changed, that old familiar pull already irresistible.

“Also, the fact that I own a bakery, which is probably the last place you hang out.” Her words were a little snarky and made me laugh.

“I love a warm danish like anybody else.” I stood, unwilling to have the piece of furniture between us anymore. I swiped a clipboard with a new member sign up as I came around the side, hovering near her, sucking in a breath of her air, scenting her again.

Jesus, she still smelled good enough to eat, and I wasn’t just referring to the scent of vanilla buttercream clinging to her hair.