The smaller building across the parking lot was in the same style as the hotel. The hotel map showed longer term rentals above, with a gym and meeting room on the bottom floor. Trace keyed in, and the lights flickered lazily on as they stepped inside. The heat must not have kicked on yet, and the temperature was biting.
Not bad for a boutique hotel, though. Black rubber flooring extended wall to wall, a rack of dumbbells and barbells, a treadmill, elliptical, rowing machine. If Foothills didn’t follow through on the rumors of a gym going in, he’d have to add a home gym like this to his place. Once he had a place of his own. Maybe he’d build, but… maybe he should buy a move-in ready place, to get some distance from Trace sooner. Nothing would tell her he wasn’t running again like owning his own home.
While Trace aimed for the heat, he headed toward the mats. She wandered over and plucked up a water bottle, tipping her head back as she hydrated before they got started.
Hell, he had it bad. No makeup, hair tied back, freckled cheeks still flushed from the cold wind on the walk over. One of these mornings, he was going to actually melt into a puddle at her feet.
Monday, he was going to start looking for a house.
He laid out their mats in the open area.
As if knowing he was watching, she tightened her gait and was all business.
She turned on the TV and pulled up their workout program, casting it to the TV.
The music of the video fired up, and the trainer went over today’s workout. Going to be a fucking burner, and he was running on empty after a shitty night’s sleep.
After a brief warmup, he followed the trainer and dropped to the ground, using his modifications, keeping in a high plank as he got his shoulder used to the movement, his ankle braced against any twisting.
The workout picked up, and Trace was already starting to level up her workouts. Full of energy, she drove her knees up for full-speed mountain climbers. Not ready for full speed yet, Cole brought one knee up slow and easy, focusing on keeping his form tight.
Twenty-five more seconds on the clock. Without stopping, Trace pouted up at the screen and growled, “Are you fucking kidding?”
He muffled a laugh as he safely walked through the moves.
“What are you laughing at, slowpoke?” Out of breath, she fired him a look, keeping up her pace and sweating hard.
“Hey.” He fired back, grinning as he did, egging her on, “I am listening to my body, per my care plan, Dr. Perry.”
“Smartass,” she growled, but the grin gave her away.
The timer buzzed, and she sat back on her knees.
Next up, burpees.
Trace tipped her head back and whimpered. “Come on. I’m dying here.”
“We could switch to yoga.”
“Yoga is on Mondays and Wednesdays,” she said, flipping her ponytail and lifting a daring look. “You don’t have to work out with me, you know.”
On his knees, he brushed the sweat from his palms. “I’m just helping you to build up that confidence by making you look good compared to my slow-ass moves.”
She hiccupped a laugh, watching him with a shine in her grin, her eyes seeming to hold him deeper than even yesterday, longer than the day before. Stabbed right into the core of him, grasping and sucking him in until he couldn’t see anything outside of her.
Musicpumping,timerrunning,Trace heard the distant echo of the trainer coaching tips and using goofy humor to keep them motivated. Sitting back on her heels, she flipped her ponytail off her shoulder and shook her head at Cole. “I could go all drill sergeant on you.”
Mirroring her position, he shook his head and laughed, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the dark enthusiasm of it. “Please god no. That was hate at first sight. And last sight. I never want to lay eyes on that asshole again.”
“Not even if it gets you back to fighting form?”
Head angling that slight bit, that subtle, wistful smile teasing at his lips, he huffed a desperate breath of a laugh.
He shifted his attention back to the screen, and she tried to do the same. The workout had switched to pushups. Cole held the high plank, lowering only a small margin, cautiously so he didn’t offset his recovery.
Trace kept looking over at him as she moved into the next position. Straight back, core engaged.
So he had a point. She was not going half ass through any of this when he was watching.
