For Worse or For Better- Book #6 in the WF Series

Chapter 37: Boxing

♡ Alaiya's POV: ♡

After Rider left and Roman shut down the entire place, Roman said he would help me workout.

We start by warming up.

First, I do some stretches to not pull a muscle. We then go to a machine where you have to lift the weights by pulling the handles downwards.

"This is easy," I whine since Roman's the one setting the weight so I don't you know, die.

"Baby, that's just the warm-up," he laughs at me.

I oh as he sets the correct weight.

That makes more sense.

"I have an idea," I say once I've finished one set. "Let's just run on the treadmill."

"That's for losing weight and you just ate."

"Yeah, that's why I suggested it." I nod.

"Shut the hell up. You're not losing any weight, so get your ass back there and do three more sets."

Someone's bossy today.

I do as he says, pulling the weights back and forth until the weird burning sensation travels throughout my arms and shoulders. I take a tiny break after my first two sets, not because I'm tired, just to get a better hold on the handles. Okay, look, I have three kids and I pushed them out of me. That pushing was harder than any workout known to this world and I'm still recovering.

"Step back." Out of nowhere, Roman pulls me back with his arm around my stomach to make sure my posture is correct, catching me off guard.

I swallow so hard that I'm sure he heard it.

Instead of understanding that he is quite literally turning me on by doing nothing, his lips inch toward my ear.

"Stop being stiff and spread your legs." His hand comes right between my inner thighs, spacing them apart.

The butterflies erupt.

I do my best to do it right because I know that if I make another mistake and he tries to help me again, I'll lose it.

After I've done three sets, Roman takes me to the room where all the workout equipment he and Rider uses is. They usually can't workout without fans coming up to them and they don't want to bother others, so they have a private room for themselves.

We walk over to a machine that you put both your feet on top of and spread your legs in and out with a weight.

As I think I'm doing great and am getting through it pretty easily, Roman crouches down right in front of me, his hand moving my foot placement, along with my thighs which apparently weren't far apart enough. And the worst part about that is he probably doesn't even realize what he's doing. It's just my dirty mind taking signals from him just touching me and making up scenarios for no reason.

I try to stretch out my legs after he's positioned me better, but I can't.

"Take it a few down, it's a little heavy," I tell him. Translation: You're turning me on without realizing it and I'm unable to focus on anything right now, especially a heavy weight which I'm not used to.

He, all of a sudden, grabs me by my ankles and tugs me to position my body better, my heart falling to my feet.

"Try now."

I stare at him blankly, unable to recover from that so quickly as my eyes unintentionally go downwards.

Almost like a bullet, my eyes and hesitation from earlier make him realize what he's been doing this entire time.