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lose myself to the rhythm of my fly-wheel and I'm in my zone. His music is inspiring even; M83's Wait comes on during a particularly steep climb and it is exactly the right song to push me through.
    All too soon, the class is over and I have to dismount the bike back into my slightly sad reality. I wipe the sweat off of my bike and drain my water bottle before I head to the locker room.
    "Paige, hold on a second."
    I pause at the exit of the Spinning room. Just outside the door sits a woman wearing a neon pink sequined sweat suit and it's seriously distracting. I turn around just as Brady is catching up to me and he has to put a hand on the wall behind me to keep from slamming into me like I did to him the first day of classes. Because he is leaning forward, our mouths are mere milimeters away from each others. I can practically taste his lips on my own. I could just lean towards him a little bit...
    I realize what I'm doing before it is too late and I step under his arm and around him. "You should watch where you walk, Brady. You almost ran into me. I didn't know you were so clumsy."
    To his credit, Brady deflects my obnoxiousness and even manages not to throw it right back in my face as I am really the clumsy person here.
    "You did really well in the class. How long have you been taking cycling classes?"
    "A few months. How long have you been teaching them?"
    He thinks for a moment. "Officially, I've been a certified instructor since I was 18 years old."
    I wait, but he doesn't elaborate. So I ask, "Unofficially? I'm sensing you are withholding information here."
    He shrugs. "I could tell you, but you'd have to agree to come and have dinner with me first."
    The thing is, I really, really want to. I'm dying to say yes. I just can't give in. So instead, I bristle. "I'm not going out on a date with you."
    Brady looks almost contemplative for a moment before the self-satisfied smirk that he is so good at settles back over his face. "Aren't we presumptuous, Lovely Paige. I never said anything about a date. We both need to eat after that workout and it will give us a chance to talk for a while. Unless you have something better to do?"
    He arches one eyebrow and looks at me pointedly, like he already knows the answer to that question is no. He's right; I have nothing better to do, nor is there anything I'd want to do more. Well...
    Screw it. "I'd kind of rather watch paint dry, to be perfectly honest, but the air conditioning is being fixed in my apartment right now so let's go. I'm going to grab a shower first."
    Brady laughs. "I'm glad I'm your first choice. I'm going to shower as well. Meet you in front in twenty minutes?"
    "See you then."

CHAPTER SEVEN

    Brady is leaning against the wall outside of the womens' locker room when I exit. He looks hot in jeans and a blue t-shirt that skims his muscular chest and arms and makes his blue eyes bluer. When he sees me, he lifts off of the wall and stalks over towards me; almost predatory in a way. The gaze he sweeps over my body makes me very glad that I threw skinny jeans into my bag, along with a very low cut black shirt. I was even lucky enough to have remembered my make up bag. Nicole always told me a woman should never go anywhere without first applying her mascara.
    "Hi."
    He takes my bag and slings it behind him. "Hi, yourself. You look great."
    I try not to let him see how much I enjoy that comment and I start walking in the direction of the parking lot. After a long moment, I hear him sigh and he falls into step beside me.
    "You're not going to make this any easier for me, are you?"
    I shake my head. "No, probably not."
    Brady stops walking next to a black and red motorcycle. He pulls the strap of my bag over one shoulder and settles it across my body; I can see he is careful not touch me anywhere that might be inappropriate. Once my bag is in place, he looks up at me and brushes a strand of my hair behind my ear. Why is the simplest of gestures enough to makes ones knees