Page 67 of Weston & Cyrus
It wasn’t exactly a lie since I’d been focusing on one piece of information at a time. “Do you have a client coming in after me?”
He scoffed and rolled his eyes as he stepped away from the free weights. “Lying isn’t a good decision and neither is changing the subject.”
Was he actually going to talk about weekend kind of stuff at the gym?
“I.” My brain stopped even though my feet kept walking toward him because that was what I always did. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Okay, not what I thought I’d been going to say but it wasn’t a lie either.
“You’re doing pretty good, actually.” Cyrus shook his head but gave me a soft smile. “I thought you’d make me wait to drag that confession out of you for at least another half an hour.”
“My goal had been the whole workout, so we were both wrong.” Me more so. “I’m not overthinking this.”
I wasn’t going to admit to that since it wasn’t true.
Overthinking required more than one thought at a time and everyone knew that.
“It’s just…different.” New and weird. “I need to get used to it.”
Whateveritwas.
“I never realized how much you hate change and I think that’s a big part of this.” Leaning against the big all-in-one setup that I could never remember the name of, he studied me like he was trying to see inside my head.
I really hoped it wouldn’t actually work but he seemed to surprise me on just about everything lately. He didn’t need to know how hot I found his shorts or that I really had to work at not fantasizing about him when he was all pumped and sweaty.
Wait.
Was I supposed to tell him about that kind of stuff now?
No.
I was going to stay on track because this was his work and I was professional in his space.
“I’m kind of bad with change.” That was easier to talk about, and it was why I’d been in my apartment for years even though I wanted one with a patio at the very least and why I really liked my boring paperwork job and why I ordered from the same two restaurants whenever I didn’t feel like cooking. “You’re not change, though. You’re Cyrus.”
Just because his title had shifted around a bit didn’t mean it was change.
“That’s right.” Nodding, Cyrus surprised me and didn’t push back against my possibly questionable logic. “I’m Cyrus. I’m your friend. I’m just in charge now.”
Letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, I straightened as everything in me felt a bit lighter. “I’m going to remember how much I like that last part…it’s just hard.”
A smirk peeked out of the asshole.
“Not that kind of hard.” I could behave. Sometimes. “This is your job.”
Duh.
“So you’re saying you’ve never had inappropriate thoughts about what could happen in the locker rooms?” He looked positively wicked as he raised one eyebrow. “As you bent over the weight rack? Never?”
Fuck.
“This…” I could respond. I could sound reasonable. “This is your gym and you’ve worked very hard to be professional.”
I respected that.
I remembered that.
“It’s not…it’s not a porn set.” Even though it could’ve been, minus the lights and camera that were missing. Everything was so stereotypical dude that it looked like what those kinds of sets were based on. “You’ve done a great job here.”
