Stir (The Sizzle TV Series Book 5)

Chapter 7 – Natalie

Iused to be terrified of this place.

Half a block down, just across the street from my apartment, it was convenient, sure. But like every danged gym in the city, it has those ridiculous floor-to-ceiling glass windows instead of, oh, I don’t know, walls. I’ve never yet figured out if the point is to see inside or to be seen from the outside.

They put the treadmills right next to the glass, too, cranking my self-consciousness up to eleven. The first time I set foot in here, I only lasted five excruciating minutes in front of that window before fleeing to the relative privacy of the weight room toward the back, even though I had absolutely no idea what to do when I got there.

It turned out to be the best move I ever made. The weights were more challenging and more interesting. Which meant the time went by faster, and bonus, nobody could see me from the street. That weight room turned into a refuge, and it kept me coming back until I wasn’t self-conscious anymore.

“So what’s his name?” Moira asks while pressing buttons on her treadmill display right next to mine. She doesn’t care for the weights, so our Sunday workouts are mostly walking and talking.

“Finn.”

“Weird.” She makes a face. I laugh.

“It is not,” I say, smacking her arm. “Short for Finnegan. His last name is Hale, so I’m going to take a wild shot in the dark and guess his family’s Irish.”

“Hot,” she says, nodding in approval. “You’re seeing him tonight.”

“We’re getting coffee this afternoon, yeah.”

“I’m proud of you, Nat.”

“Oh, please.”

“I’m serious, woman.” Moira bumps her speed down and lays a hand on my arm. “Look, I know you don’t like to talk about it, but Nic?—”

“Nope.”

“Natalie.”

“Moira.”

“Hey, I have held my tongue about this, and after this conversation, I will hold it again,” says Moira, pointing right at me. “But you have had feelings for that man for months.”

I try to protest, but she keeps right on talking over me.

“Months. I know I tease you about him sometimes, but I really do understand why you keep that shit to yourself. But you can’t lie to me, and it is my sacred duty as your best friend to make sure you’re not lying to yourself.”

I frown. “I’m not lying to you.”

“No, you just shut me down as soon as I try to bring it up. And I get it! That’s what I’m trying to say here. I understand why you do it. This date with the new guy is such a big deal. So don’t roll your eyes when I tell you I’m proud of you because I mean it. And I will smack you if I have to.”

Moira can be a bit bloodthirsty. We walk in relative silence for a bit, gym noises at a minimum today because we’re the only ones in here right now. It’s my favorite time to be here—nobody’s around to see me sweat.

“I shouldn’t want them both.”

“There’s no should or shouldn’t here,” says Moira. “You’ve found two guys who flip your switch, and high time, too, as far as I’m concerned. You deserve it. There’s no should when it comes to attraction, so don’t beat yourself up about it. Just enjoy it. Hell, I’m jealous.” She laughs.

“Isn’t it… I don’t know, disrespectful or something?”

“To be attracted to multiple men? No. That’s biology at work, my sweet summer child. Why should that bother you?”

I fiddle with the controls on the treadmill display. “I don’t know.”

“Look, focus on facts. Finn asked you out, yes?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re into him?”

I remember the rush of heat I’d felt just looking at the man’s hands. Hands, for God’s sake.

“I’ll take the blushing as a yes,” she says, glee in her eyes. “And we’ve covered the Nic issue, but even so. Honestly, girl, if I were you, I’d be dating them both.”

Only the handrails keep me from riding the belt right off the machine.

“Moira.”

“What? I said date.” She gives me the side-eye, the glee in her expression lighting up all over again. “You thought I meant sleepwith them. Natalie Ann Casteel, I am shocked. Shocked, I tell you.”

“I did not?—”

“You absolutely did, and I am here for it. Date them both, sure, but a threesome would be even better.”

My face has to be flaming red. “That is not what I meant!”

“Maybe not,” she concedes, backing off. She pats my arm and turns her gaze back to the windows in front of us. “But it’s fun to dream.”

I bump up the machine’s speed to a jog, then to a run. Anything to stave off any more conversation in that direction, even cardio.

Dating two men at the same time, honestly. Who does she think I am? I couldn’t go out with them both, let alone…

An image flashes in my mind before I can shove it away: Finn on my right, shirtless and big with his hands on my hips, and then Nic on my left, lean and intense and looking at me for all the world like he wants me back.

Good God.

We wrap up the workout, wipe down our machines, and head for the door.

“It’s inappropriate,” I say, as though I haven’t been avoiding the conversation for the last twenty minutes.

“It’s a fantasy,” she shoots back, holding the door open for me. I grip the collar of my coat against the cold wind as we walk. “And there is absolutely nothing wrong with it. Enjoy your date with Finn.” Moira hip checks me and walks around to the driver’s side of her car. “I expect to hear every detail about this tomorrow.”

I stick out my tongue and she grins, climbing into her car and waving as she pulls away.

I cross the street and make for the apartment building up the block, loosening my hold on my coat as I go. After that, I need to cool off a bit. Meaning the workout, of course.

A few hours later,Finn is sitting near the window in the café when I get to the Market Street Market, his eyes scanning the street as I approach. He doesn’t see me right away. I slow my steps, savoring the anticipation, the total opposite of my last few months with Jeff the jerk. I’d started to put off seeing him, dreading it completely by the bitter end. His constant disappointment was written all over his face. It was hard, in hindsight, to look forward to seeing somebody who clearly never enjoyed seeing you.

Finn Hale has been different from the moment I met him, but I feared that spark, that heat, wouldn’t be there when he saw me today. Maybe in this light, or the way I was dressed?—

Shut it down, Nat. You’re not that girl anymore.

Right. Shake it off; positive thoughts only. I turn my focus on him.

Dark hair, just a hint of a curl to it, glossy and thick enough I want to run my hands through it. His eyes are just as striking today—deep blue, lit with an energy I find utterly magnetic. His fingers tap on the table, and I get the impression he isn’t one for keeping still. His shoulders are broad, his body clearly powerful even sitting down, dwarfing the tiny café style table in front of him. His forearm flexes as he taps, causing heat to wash over me. His hand goes still, flattening on the tabletop.

When I look up, his smile lights every inch of his face, and the relief I feel makes my knees weak. I can’t help but smile back.

I make my way through the door and he meets me by the counter.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey, yourself,” he says, still smiling. “You look lovely. I’m glad you’re here.” He sounds like he means it, and I remind myself sternly that not every man is a lying douchebag and that I’m not the woman I was a year ago.

“I’m glad to see you,” I say, just in case he doesn’t notice that I can’t stop smiling as he kisses my cheek. He must have shaved this morning, but I can feel the scruff of a beard as he brushes my skin, and it makes me shiver.

We order and take our coffees back to the table.

“How was your workout with your friend?” he asks.

“Moira,” I say, sipping my latte gently. “We had a good time. Have you had a good weekend?”

A grin tugs at his mouth. “Let’s just say the hours dragged a little for me.”

“Somewhere else you wanted to be?”

“Not anymore.” He looks into my eyes, and I believe him. I relax a little more.

“So you work for Nic the lawyer. That must be interesting.”

I feel myself flushing, though I can’t put my finger on why exactly.

“He’s great,” I say. “Best boss I ever had.”

“What do you do for him?”

That makes me blush, and I can feel the babbling start before I even open my mouth. “I’m his personal assistant, PA, for short. I answer the phones, man the printer, and manage his appointments and files. Coffee. That kind of thing.”

“Been with him long?”

Why, oh why, does everything about this conversation sound like I’m with Nic? Get a grip, Nat.

“I’ve been working for him for just over a year.”

“You’ve known him a lot longer than I have.”

“Oh?”

Finn nods. “I only moved in a few weeks ago.”

“How do you like your apartment?” Asking seems innocuous, the polite thing to do, but Finn’s eyes flare with heat.

“I like it a lot better since yesterday.”

A tiny, pleased smile escapes. “You mentioned your sister,” I prompt. This is a coffee date, and while I don’t have much experience with them—Jeff didn’t like cafés—I want to know more about Finn. Maybe this is second date conversation? Are there rules for this? I should have asked Moira.

“Callie,” says Finn. He smiles a little but there’s tension with it. “Short for Callahan. She’s great. We’re… having a bit of a rough time right now.”

“You sound close.”

“That’s twins for you,” he says.

“Twins!”

He smiles, and it’s lighter this time. “We’ll be twenty-nine this spring. She likes to remind me that I have to get old first.”

“That’s funny.”

“What about you?” he asks. “Any siblings?”

I shake my head. “Only child. I always wanted a sister, but Mom and Dad couldn’t have any more after me. I asked them why they didn’t adopt, but anytime it comes up, they just tell me they were blessed enough with me. I can’t tell if it’s a compliment,” I say, laughing.

“I’m sure it is. Are they… still around?” Finn’s question is hesitant.

“Oh, yeah,” I say, waving a hand. “They still live in the house where I grew up, over in Riverside.” The neighborhood is older but aging well, as far as I can tell. “What about you?”

Finn hesitates. My stomach tightens.

“Our parents are gone,” he says.

“I’m so sorry.” His face is tense. I can’t think of anything else to say to that.

“It was a long time ago,” he says, dismissing the subject without further explanation, waving it away with his hand. “I want to know more about you, Natalie. Tell me what you like.”

Just like that, the air around us changes, charges; the tension from a moment ago turned molten or electric. As though the space between us might ignite. I’ve never felt anything like it before.

“What I like?” My voice is breathless, the words sounding more suggestive than I mean them to. Finn’s blue, blue eyes darken, his lips part.

“I meant that, generally speaking,” he says slowly. “But if you have something else in mind, we can skip the parts about favorite music and movies and go straight to whatever it is you’re thinking about right now that put that look on your face.”

Finn to my left, Nic to my right. Both of them at once.

I shake my head. Finn grins. The heat in that space between us waxes and wanes over the next couple of hours but never fully goes away. His favorite movie is Die Hard—no surprises there—and he favors British pop punk, which I find delightfully specific. He likes the same noir detective stories as I do. Best of all, his gaze doesn’t wander the room like he’s trying to find something better to look at, oh, no. Eyes on me at all times. I spend more than a few minutes wondering what those shoulders look like without his shirt and jacket to obscure, and by the time he kisses my cheek after walking me to my car, I’m officially on cloud nine.

“Dinner Tuesday,” he confirms again. I smile, leaning into him just that extra beat too long.

“Yes,” I say. His grin lights up his whole face.

“Looking forward to it,” he says. “I’ll text you.”

Moira told me the best way to get over the last one is to get under the next one. Crass, yes, but maybe she’s got a point. Either way, I’ve found my next one. Dinner Tuesday night can’t come fast enough.