Page 27 of Wrapped in Hope

“Let’s start with some stretches,” Holden says, standing on a mat that’s laid out on the floor.

He sits down with his legs spread apart, while reaching for his toes. I take a deep breath and take a seat next to him, repeating what he does.

I’m surprised to find myself rather limber, reaching my toes with no problem while pulling my head down to my knee.

“You’re pretty flexible for someone who doesn’t do this sort of thing,” he says, drawing my attention away from my stretches.

“I used to do gymnastics when I was younger. I guess muscle memory?” I let out a short laugh that sounds more nervous than anything. I hope he doesn’t pick up on my nervousness. I don’t want him to think I’m uncomfortable being around him. It’s not his fault my mind and body are completely fucking confused.

“Turn around and face me, placing your feet against mine,” he directs me.

I turn around and put the bottoms of my shoes against his.

“Now, give me your hands.”

I reach forward and our hands touch, instantly sending that shock through me. It makes me take a sudden gasp. His eyes pop up to mine, but he pretends he didn’t hear it before pulling me forward.

I feel the muscles in my legs start to stretch.

“Can you take more?” he asks.

I nod and he pulls me even further. My nipples are nearly touching the floor. With every breath I take, they graze the hard surface, making them harden and tingle with excitement.

He starts easing me back into an upright position and I pull him forward. He keeps his eyes trained on the floor, but when he looks up and his eyes meet mine, my heart pounds wildly.

“Okay, I think that’s good,” he says, turning away from me. I think maybe he can feel the desire exchange when we look at one another, so he breaks the connection, probably just as confused about it as I am.

We both stand and I adjust my clothing. I feel completely out of place and my nerves haven’t settled in the least. My clothing is the only thing I can adjust.

“Are you a runner?” he asks as he leads me in the direction of the treadmill.

“Not really. I don’t usually exercise.”

“You’ve got a good set of lungs and endurance then. I had to get in my Jeep to chase you last night when you took off from group. Let’s see how far you can run.” He comes to a stop in front of the treadmill.

I jump up on the machine and start walking as he adjusts the speed and incline. “We’ll start you off easy,” he says with a grin. “Go as long as you can. I’ll be over there.” He points to some fancy machine with weights attached.

I watch him walk away as I jog along with the treadmill.

I can’t seem to keep my eyes off him as he lifts weights, making his biceps flex. They’re tanned, and big, and glistening with a sheen of sweat. I lick my dry lips as my stomach muscles tighten from wondering what those big arms would feel like holding me.

Stop it.

I can’t think about this. I have to get a handle on whatever is going on inside my body.

I shake my head and force myself to look out the windows that line the front of the building.