Page 35 of Written By a Woman

“Thank you for the clothes,” I spoke up attempting to distract the room from my hand placement. I casually released my grip on myself while trying to slide my arms over my chest, going for a more casual crossed-arms look instead of a self-groping one.

“It’s no problem,” Zaid cleared his throat again and lifted his hands to give me the clothing, before glancing at my crossed arms and deciding to set the stack on the breakroom table instead, “Hopefully they’re comfortable enough.”

And that, my friends, is how I ended up spending the day wearing basketball shorts and a slightly baggy t-shirt throughout the day. Mary teased me with a wiggle of her eyebrows every time she passed my desk, whereas Jamie simply grinned like she was in on a secret. An hour or two later, Jacqueline approached me at the desk to ask for my help with paperwork while she started the onboarding process for Alice, the newest software engineer.

But when she saw my all too casual getup, she paused in her stride and raised a dark eyebrow at me in question.

“It’s fine,” I casually waved my hands, “I spilled coffee on my work-appropriate clothes.” Jacqueline nodded her head slowly, and I could see her struggling to determine if this was a problem for her or not. With a small shake of her head, she decided to move past the weirdness of my appearance and gave me instructions on what she needed help with. I gave her a thumbs up and a wide grin because I wasdeterminedto befriend Jacqueline in some way.

Zaid eventually came over to check in on me, and I found myself blushing uncontrollably because there was another detail to this situation that made me feel embarrassed, in addition to my list of secrets about him.

His clothes smelledamazing. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I guessed that he wore some type of expensive cologne or aftershave, because I swore on my life that no men’s body wash or shampoo gave off this delicious of a smell. I was melting in my seat from it, and I found myself tugging the collar of his shirt up towards my nose randomly throughout the day to take a shameful whiff.

I was intoxicated. No smell had ever made me this aroused before. I partially wondered if it was some type of pheromone cologne that I saw advertised on my social media all the time. It wouldn’t have surprised me, based on the visceral reaction my body had while being wrapped up in Zaid’s scent throughout the entirety of the workday.

And when he came to check on me to make sure that the clothes were comfy enough? I melted on the inside.

“You’re too nice,” I grinned up at him from my seat, “You gave me the shirt off your back.”

Zaid’s lips turned up in the corners the slightest bit as he shook his head, “More accurately, I gave you the shirt out of my gym bag.”

“You have a whole gym bag?” I raised my eyebrows, settling in with my elbows on the counter just to see how long I could keep a conversation with him going, “Like, a whole bag? You don’t just show up already wearing gym clothes and call it?”

Zaid shrugged, shoving his hands in the pockets of his slacks, and leaning a hip against the higher ledge of my desk, “Not when I go straight to the gym after work, or if I go to the gym before coming into work.”

“I am very unfamiliar with gym culture, I must admit,” I said, shrugging one shoulder, “I go like once a year for the free week-long trial, and then decide walking around the beach is just as sufficient. And cheaper.” One of those week-long trials was when I met Eloise, she was teaching a fun group cardio class. Even though I immediately bailed on the class, we still became fast friends.

“Exercise is exercise,” Zaid shrugged again, “I need the formality of the gym, I think.” His dark brows scrunched a little bit as he stared over my shoulder as if thinking about his answer a bit more, “It’s nice having a routine I can do every time I go.”

Oh my god, another fun fact about Zaid.

I was slowly becoming obsessed with him, and the little nuggets of personal information he would give me. I already felt like I won the lottery meeting his sister and adorable nephew a while back, but that didn’t satiate my never-ending curiosity for this gorgeous man. I could feel my face lighting up with excitement from this conversation and tried so, so hard to school my expression so I didn’t scare him off.

“What exactly constitutes a gym routine? Does it involve whatever else you take in your bag?” I sounded playful, but hopefully not sarcastic or patronizing. I could see Zaid lower his eyebrows a little at my expression, his lips quirking to the side as if he were onto me. Like he was waiting for me to tease him about something.

“It does, because hygiene is important, Signe,” the way he lowered his head, as well as his voice, made my pulse jump in my veins, “I bring my own rags, lifting belt, and a change of socks and shoes. So that I don’t bring in outside dirt and debris onto all the gym equipment and mats.”

“Rags?” I asked, “For what?”

“My sweat,” Zaid’s eyebrow quirked the slightest bit, his dark eyes holding mine hostage as he let that hang between us. Exercise usually involved sweating, it wasn’t an unusual thing to say.

But I immediately pictured him shirtless, like the image Mary sent me of him poolside, wiping his damp skin with a towel after benching or running or whatever it is men do at the gym. My mouth went dry a little bit, my cheeks heating as I made direct eye contact with upper management while simultaneously picturing him sweating in the most unprofessional context ever.

“Oh,” was all I could say before I pasted a friendly smile back on my face, hopefully masking the horny thoughts I was desperately trying to shove into the back of my brain, “Duh.” Zaid huffed a whisper of a laugh at that, his eyes crinkling in the corners as his smile accompanied the sound.

“But the clothes are comfortable?” Zaid asked, the subject change making me hesitate for half a second before I nodded my head enthusiastically.

“This is the comfiest I have ever been at the office,” I grinned, but then I grabbed the edge of my desk and leaned forward, before checking over my shoulder and down either side of the hallway dramatically, “But unfortunately I have to ask you an uncomfortable question.”

Zaid’s brows pinched together the slightest bit, “You do?”oh my god, was that genuine concern on his face?I nodded my head solemnly as he leaned towards me, also glancing down the hall that I had just checked and matching my vibe completely. I almost felt bad for being theatrical about this, but it was also how I masked my own embarrassment over the question I justhadto ask him.

“I do,” I lifted a hand to my mouth as if I was going to whisper a secret to him, “What cologne do you wear, and where can I find some for myself?”

Zaid blinked, his eyes widening a fraction before the tips of his ears turned the slightest shade of red.

I loved it way too much when this man blushed.

“My cologne?” Zaid asked, confusion evident as he kept his hunched posture and leaned closer toward me.

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