Page 9 of The Boss

“My PA went on maternity leave,” he muttered, his lips just above my ear.

I latched onto the change of subject, desperate for a distraction. “Melissa, right?”

“Yeah.” I could hear his jaw working. “She’s been with me for nine years. Knows everything before I even have to ask. And now, I’m stuck without her.”

I glanced at him over my shoulder. “They didn’t get you a temp?”

“They did. Some guy named Greg. Doesn’t know a damn thing.”

I smirked. “So, you’re basically helpless.”

His mouth quirked, but his frustration didn’t ease. “Let’s just say I don’t have time to babysit.”

The elevator dinged. My floor. I dug my way through the crowd and stepped out, forcing myself not to look back.

“See you around, Zac.”

“See you, Landry.”

I didn’t turn, but I felt his gaze on my back as the doors slid shut.

* * *

That evening, after work, I made my way down to the company gym, figuring I’d put in a quick workout before heading home. It was convenient and I was finally getting back into my routine of daily lifting sessions. The gym was spacious and modern, the kind of high-end fitness center you’d expect from a company like Nova. It was mostly empty this time of day, just a few people scattered around, but the moment I stepped in, my eyes landed on him.

Zac.

He stood at the weight rack, loading plates onto a barbell, wearing a loose gray stringer that showed off his broad, muscular torso and massive arms. His black shorts hung low on his hips, showcasing powerful thighs. A sheen of sweat clung to his skin.

I swallowed hard.

He spotted me and took his earbuds out. “Landry.”

“Hey.” I tried to sound casual, like I hadn’t just been standing there, gawking. “I thought you said you work out in the mornings?” I asked, stepping over.

He sighed, low and measured. “I usually do.” He finished setting up his weights, then rolled his shoulders. “Needed to blow off some steam.”

“I hear that.” When he offered no further explanation, I looked around, trying to think of something to say. “So, what’s your workout playlist?”

He glanced at me, then pulled his phone from his shorts and smirked as he showed me the screen—Queen’s Greatest Hits.

“Should’ve guessed,” I said, chuckling.

Sliding the phone back into his pocket, he jerked his chin toward the bench press. “You lifting?”

I lifted a shoulder. “That was the plan.”

“Good. You can spot me.”

So I did. I stood behind his head as he lay back on the bench, watching as he gripped the bar, muscles flexing as he pushed through each rep with perfect form. The weights were heavy—heavier than I could handle—but he made it look effortless. The man was as strong as an ox.

When he finished his set, we switched. I slid onto the bench, and Zac stood over me, hands hovering beneath the bar as I lifted, his crotch above my head. His closeness was… distracting. The way he loomed, the heat of him, the faint scent of his sweat mixed with cologne. It took everything in me to focus on the exercise instead of trying to sneak a peek up his shorts.

We worked out together for an hour, and by the end of it, my body was wrecked. I could barely keep up with him, but I liked the challenge. Liked the way he pushed me.

“Sauna?” he asked on the way to the locker room.

“Sure,” I said, trying not to sound too eager.

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