Chapter 2

“And time! Great job, riders! You all should be very proud of yourself today.” Came a voice from the head of the class.

Gavin reached for the towel that was hanging off the end of his spin bike, the bombastic music still ringing in his ears.

He took the towel and glanced around the room as he patted dry the powerful muscles of his neck, shoulders and arms. It was primarily filled with women, but there were a few guys in the class, too. Many of the women looked well-to-do: perfect hair, perfect teeth, designer gym wear that was form-fitted and hugged in all the right places, even if the vessel within was soft and squishy.

Something caught Gavin’s eye and he looked around. Another rider, a guy whose name he thought was Brad. Or Mike. Or Steve, had nodded his way and gave him the thumbs up as Gavin dismounted his bike. Gavin returned the thumbs up satisfactorily but wasn’t sure why. He had not ridden next to the man, nor spoke to him in some time. But that’s how people seemed to feel about Gavin: relatable, approachable.

Gavin had that disposition that some people have, where people feel the need to come up and talk to you. Maybe it was his physique, well-built and well-muscled, despite being 42. There was not a trace of grey in the temples and he had a face that was youthful despite his years. Maybe it was his eyes, an oceanic blue that were warm and inviting. Or his voice, which sounded powerful and commanding, yet never overbearing.

“Hey stud.”

Gavin turned around and a woman with a microphone headset had come over to him, her forearm resting on the handlebars of his spin bike. She had a remote in her hand and she tapped a button, bringing up the house lights of the exercise room they were currently in as well as fading out the music.

“You rode well today,” she said to him, casting her eyes around and smiling and waiving to patrons who were exiting the class.

“You know how to bring us to task, Danny.” He said, dismounting from the spin bike and taking the opportunity to dab at his neck once more. His bicep twitched and he saw her eyes linger on it for a moment before her hazel eyes returned to his.

“You know, you haven’t called lately…” she let the words hang in the air. She took the opportunity to trace a finger through her chestnut brown hair and trace it down the shoulder strap of her sports bra, letting the finger skate around the edge of her large and youthful chest, a product of West Hollywood’s finest plastic surgeon.

“I’d give you an excuse, but I know that’s not your style.” Said Gavin, taking in the coconut-vanilla of her scent, despite the intense workout they’d had.

She looked around and so did he. The room was completely emptied out of the small private studio which sat on the fourth floor of a very well-known building in Los Angeles, California.

“When does your next class start up?” He asked, taking a step closer to her.

She tilted her chin up to close the near foot gap that distanced their heights. “I cancelled it when I saw that you had signed up for this ride.”

“How nice of you.”

Wordlessly, she gazed into his eyes and pressed another button on the remote. From somewhere behind him, Gavin heard the faint click of a lock as the automatic door closed behind him, sealing them both inside.

“Got time for another ride?” she asked, her tongue skating across her teeth, an eyebrow raised.

“Always.” Said Gavin as they embraced, and the lights went out.

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