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“Okay, then.” He’d winked. “Maybe time to get your testosterone levels checked, huh?”
She’d wanted to snap back something. Instead, she’d almost sunk into the floor as everyone in the gym turned to look.
“You want me to guess?” Chris’s eyes twinkled. When she didn’t answer, he eyed her upper body. “Ninety pounds? Maybe one hundred?”
“I just moved up to one hundred, but I haven’t worked out in a couple of weeks, so ninety would be good.”
“Done. Now how’s that warm-up coming?”
She stretched, and he brought the barbell over, carrying it as if it was still the five-pounder. She got into position on the bench, and he placed the bar on her hands. Then he leaned against the treadmill.
“First time I did a bench press it was fifty pounds,” he said. “And I almost dropped it on my head.”
She hefted the weight. “Thirty for me. Which was just the bar. I asked the guy at the store for a smaller one—I know they have them—but he didn’t carry them, because they’re not for serious lifters.”
“In other words, he only served men. Asshole.”
She kept lifting, and he kept talking, taking over the conversation as she focused on her breathing. He was looking at her, but there was nothing critical in it. Just watching her as he talked. Avidly watching her, as if appreciating her form… which made her elbow give out on the last rep.
He caught and held the barbell. She’d been in no danger of dropping it, but she appreciated the gesture.
“Switch out between sets?” he said. “Or do you just want to rest and go again?”
“If it’s not too hard to change weights, then we’ll switch.”
“Easy enough.” He took the barbell and returned it to the rack.
“Does that even go high enough for you?” she asked.
“Pfft. No. I usually press two cows and a small goat.”
That made her laugh. Then he looked down at the dial.
“It actually doesn’t go high enough, does it?” she said, smiling as she sat up.
“It does not, and I should make that sound impressive, but this thing is made for casual workouts. It maxes out at one fifty.”
She walked over to him. “Is that all?”
“I think you’re going to need to lie across the bar for me. Sorry.”
She sputtered a laugh. “Hey, if I could think of a sexy way to do it, I would, but I’d end up clutching the bar like a spider monkey.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, D. Spider monkeys can be very sexy.”
She wanted to run with that. He’d teased her back, which meant flirting was still on the table. Now it was her turn, which would have been easier if she hadn’t introduced spider monkeys to the conversation.
Damn it, she wasn’t very good at this.
Of course, she wasn’t the one who’d said spider monkeys could be sexy, so… Maybe they both weren’t very good at this?
Chris lifted the bar and brought it to the bench. To accommodate the lighter weight, he put the bench on an incline.
“What do you normally press?” she asked as she settled in to his former spot, leaning against the treadmill.
“Little over two hundred.”
She whistled.
