****Chapter 1****

"You really should come with us. It's been ages since you've been out. Don't you think you deserve a break?" A redoubtable voice carried over the tinny sounds of elevator music and other women getting ready to sweat themselves to death on machines designed to be hated while Maida slipped into her own gear. The cropped pants and racer back tank top were faded from use, but she didn't see any reason to replace them so long as they still worked; even if the threadbare looks of them made her stick out like a sore thumb when compared to her girlfriends who were constantly out shopping for the latest gym wear. Not that she begrudged them that, if only they actually – worked out, rather than walk on the treadmill all evening and talk her ears off.

Slapping her locker closed, she pulled out the key, fastening it to the waist band of her pants before checking to make sure that her iPod was on right and her ear buds where they should be. Her hair, what she thought of as a considerably bland shade of brown was pulled up into a high ponytail atop her head. At least this way it wouldn't be sticking to her temples or neck annoyingly, she thought. If she looked close enough she could see the scatter of freckles across her straight nose, how they bled into olive skin tinged ruddy from too much sun yesterday. She shouldn't have been out gardening when she had a mountain of laundry to do and a bathroom that screamed for some attention too. "It's not that I don't want to go, I just have so much housework that I've been slacking off on," she amended, trying to keep her tone just a hair shy of sounding like she was whining. Listening to griping, wasn't exactly The Gaggle's strong suit. If you couldn't pull your weight, you were just a slacker.

The excuse sounded lame even to her own ears, she didn't need the Gaggle to start nagging her. And no sooner were the words out of her mouth when Bevy, the shortest and roundest of the group swung around the corner from her own locker to glare at Maida. "You are honestly going to say that you can't go out with us for a night of dancing and drinking, because you've got a cat box to clean?" Maida shifted from one foot to the other with a squeak of rubber sole to tile. It did sound far worse the way Bevy put it, and she could have used a night out. What was one night? It wasn't as if she'd been out since, god, she didn't even want to think about the last time she had been out at a bar.

She thought about it anyways, and realized that at twenty-six, she had done far less partying than anyone she knew. Hell, she couldn't even say she owned any slinky lingerie or had had any questionable sex. It was miserable when she thought of things in terms of adventure and sex. Especially given that she was all but a virgin in name. A few nights of uncomfortable and awkward hardly made for anything worth re-telling.

Thumping her forehead to the locker in front of her while the rest of them got ready she groaned. Loudly enough that Bevy began to cackle and clap at the same time in triumph; a maniacal little Kewpie doll with blonde curls and blue eyes, and while round, her figure was tight. "Fine, I'll go. Just don't expect too much from me, I have to work in the morning." Which was literally a cry to the universe for some sort of trouble to find its way to them.

"Oh my god, I cannot wait! It is going to be so much fun. You'll see. The lesson that goes on beforehand is really great, and they have some really hot guys that show up." Maida smirked, watching as Bevy all but melted into a bright pink spandex laden puddle there on the gym floor. "Right, dance lessons. I'm so excited I can't even, Bevy!" The irony of her sarcasm was completely lost on her friend as she grabbed a towel and made for the exit of the locker room.

The rest of the ladies would have to follow after the two, each in varying colors and states of fitness. Maida found that it was better to be surrounded by women who had their own goals, their own lives. Especially because it ensured that she was insulated from having to be more gregarious. Being outgoing she found was taxing, and required a level of perk that she found annoying. No, it was better that they were more perky, more outgoing than she. It was easy just to go along with whatever crazy plans they had, most of the time she had quite a bit of fun. "I'm serious, Maida, you're going to love this place. It's is so retro with this sleek looking wood floor and these old lights. I've never seen such a really nice place that is so old too."

Maida tuned Bevy out, plugging in her ear buds as they took the flight of stairs that led to the main workout area. There were machines, the usual Precor and treadmill, a few Pilates machines that one could only use under the close scrutiny of a trainer and of course – the free weights and weight machine area. No doubt the ladies would break off from one another, going their own way to do their workouts. Bevy more than likely would walk for an hour on a treadmill before attempting some of the "lady weights". Maida wondered if that was really how Bevy kept in such great shape, or if the rumors were true and she visited with an old boyfriend, The Surgeon a couple of times a year. It was hard for her to tell as she cued up the program of her usual machine of Satan, a treadmill she loved and hated with a singular passion.

With the Lo Cash Cowboys crooning in her ears about dancing while being intoxicated she set the machine and lost herself to the rhythm of her feet hitting the treads, concentrating on the change in the elevation as Satan took her through her paces; four miles uphill and as quickly as she possibly could. She hadn't always been able to run like this, hell, when she had first started she could barely jog a mile. Two years later and she could if she wanted to run from sun up until sun down. She found it especially gratifying when she drove into the mountains and found a spot to drop her car while she explored the trails with her own two feet. The Gaggle was always less enthused whenever she suggested such excursions as they preferred trips to the malls and shopping centers. Retail therapy they called it.

She was just hitting her stride, coming up on the third mile when she noticed someone well, noticing her. It wasn't often that she caught some random guy's eye, and even more so when she was covered in a sheen of sweat. Hardly looking her best she figured, but men were weird. She couldn't count the number of times she'd come across some dude making eyes at Bevy's ass while she did the stair stepper. He was tall from what she could tell, with nice broad shoulders that tapered down to some really fine hips. Unlike so many of the meat heads at the gym, he hadn't forgotten leg day. She couldn't quite tell other than he had blonde hair and light eyes where he might have been from. Definitely Caucasian, but in this day in age who knew, it wasn't as if she was able to tell. She was a mutt herself, having a bit of Scot and Indian ancestry thrown in with lord knew what else.

He had great eyes though, and while she was sure that maybe he was probably just staring off into space, having a moment himself – he certainly wasn't just blatantly staring at her was she? Should she stare back, or was that to forward? Hell, did it matter? Ducking her head down, she figured that if she didn't make eye contact, he would eventually get the point and ogle someone else. But damn it, that didn't sit right. It only made her feel jealous. He was her gawker, not someone else's.

Debating with herself as she started her cool down, she glanced back to the machine he had been on, only to find it now deserted. Great, because she decided to be awkward about having some guy make eyes at her, he'd given up. It was just like guys these days, not that she couldn't blame him. It wasn't as if she was really good at giving men the right signal. Half the time when she liked a guy it ended up with him dating some other member of the gaggle, or someone altogether; relegating her to the friend zone. There was nothing more dejected than being put there when you were crushing hard on a guy but had not a single clue about what to do about it.

"There should be a damn manual." Muttering to herself, while Baby Bash started talking about Suga Suga, she came to the end of her run and turned to grab some antibacterial wipes, only to find herself face to face with Gym Guy. He was even better looking up close with a strong jaw, straight nose and the sort of mouth that a woman really could just nibble on forever. Hell, he had lips that she wouldn't mind nibbling on her in a few places. His eyes were hazel, with flecks of steel gray in them. And his eye lashes! She couldn't even get lashes like that when she attempted the fake ones.

He tapped the sides of his ears, indicating she should take the buds from her ears, and watched as that gorgeous mouth smiled really slowly. Not that she noticed how really perfect his teeth were, or the fact that he had the best tan. Nope, she wasn't one to notice such things. Or the fact that his pecs were absolutely perfect from what she could see of them peeking out of the sides of his gym shirt. "I'd ask what the manual was for, but I don't even know you."

God! Of course he not only had to have good hearing, but he had to have a really sexy voice too. Embarrassed, she cleared her throat while juggling the ear buds in her hands. She felt awkward, but how else was she supposed to feel when confronted by some sort of gym Adonis? They didn't talk to women like her, in their frumpy "I hate shopping," for things clothes that had been washed to many times and sweaty ponytail hair. They talked to women like Bevy, with her perfect lips and hips, her stylish blonde hair and fabulous wardrobe.

Chuckling, she waved one hand about as if to dismiss the odd comment. "I really wasn't hoping for a response. From the machine! Obviously, I wasn't talking to … okay. Hello! My name is Maida and I talk to gym equipment."

Her obvious distress was probably what prompted him to offer her a hand, so that she could step down from the treadmill. Like some sort of chivalrous knight or something. She was sure of it as she looked away from him briefly before taking his hand and stepping down, saddened when she did, because it meant that she was no longer at eye level with him. Most of the time her lack of height wasn't so much of a problem, the men she had tried to date in the past being somewhat height challenged themselves. Gym Guy however had no problems with height, making her feel far tinier than she was.

Feeling very aware of their surroundings, she shuffled a little while looking here and there for one of the other members of the Gaggle. Potentially they might know him, which would make things either good or worse depending on the level of knowledge they had.

"Well Maida who talks to gym equipment, I'm Locke. And I don't talk to gym equipment, because well, they are the worst conversationalists." He still had her hand in his, the size of it a fraction of his own. Careful he gave it a bit of a squeeze before loosening his grip, careful not to let her hand go as he watched a flush of color bloom beneath the freckles. She was a cagey little thing, one he'd seen on and off when his schedule suited a work out a bit earlier in the evening. It wasn't until today though that he thought that maybe he should try and talk to her. But she was always surrounded by this weird group of women who wore too much perfume and makeup while at the gym. Of the passel of them, she seemed the most down to earth. Not the easiest of the lot, but definitely the most genuine.

Could he be any cuter, or more funny? He had the perfect way of breaking the ice that she wished she was possessed of. That just, off the cuff sort of humor that didn't put her down at all but made her feel less like the only girl going by herself to the prom. Giving his hand as firm a shake as she could, she relaxed a little and smiled. "It must be hard for them to really get into conversation, while someone is sweating all of them." The connotations of her words hitting her just after they left her mouth, which led to her immediately wanting to backpedal while simultaneously trying to get her hand back, "I mean, the machines. Since they can't really talk, and I'm just going to stop talking right now."

Her wanting to back off only made him hold harder to her hand, gripping it a bit more tightly as she pulled away. "I really hope you wouldn't. I've never had a conversation with someone who talks to gym equipment. I find it enlightening. I'll have to remember to remind others that when they are finished with the equipment to give it a good wipe down. Always refreshing, right?"

Wait, were they still talking about gym equipment or had he somehow managed to jump the conversation to something entirely different, and so completely out of her own scope that she was floundering? Yes, yes, Maida thought. That is exactly what he was doing. Because of that, or maybe because she had her own warped sense of humor, she laughed, finally able to pull her hand away when she started to do so. "I don't know about you, but a good rub down with a moist towelette is just what I want after being sweated all over."

He grinned while looking down at her, engaged now not simply because of the humor but because she was being so good about it. It wasn't every day that he went out of his way to talk to people at the gym. He was there to get his workout in before going to work, or having finished with work. A means to an end, as far as decompressing from the stress involved in his line of work. "A girl after my own heart. Tell me Maida, do you just talk to gym equipment or does this," he motioned with one hand between the two of them, "have any chance of being continued over say, a drink or maybe dinner?"

The promise she had made to Bevy came back to haunt her. Mentally cursing her friend because she really wanted to have dinner with Gym Guy Locke as she gave him that universal look that all women had in their mental back pocket, "I'd love to have a drink with you, or even dinner. But I, I made plans to go out tonight with some girlfriends of mine." It figured that she would make plans only to have those plans get in the way of her potentially making it with a guy as hot as the one in front of her. Who was she kidding though? No doubt he'd meet the Gaggle and she'd end up in the horrible friend-zone again.

Locke was pretty sure that she didn't realize that everything she was thinking went across her face from her skepticism of him asking her out to the fact that she was really peeved about something now. Careful of the minefield, he eased up onto the balls of his feet, before wading into that field. If he lost a limb or two, at least he would know for sure if she was actually interested, or if she was just giving him the brush off. "Well, it doesn't have to be right now. I mean, you seem to be just getting into your set. I mean, you usually do a few sets of flys before moving onto the squat rack." Wow Locke, stalker much? As her features started to widen in shock, he shook his head and made one last ditch effort. "I noticed you, before. I just, I didn't have the guts to say much. You've got good form. With the rack, the flys … oh shit." He started laughing then, while shaking his head. "I'm sorry. That sounds creepy as fuck."

If he hadn't been so absolutely chagrined, Maida was sure he would have come off as a stalker. Sure, she could see herself splashed across the headlines, "Woman dies after date with Gym Guy," and all she could supply would be, but he seemed so nice? Ted Bundy must have seemed nice to his neighbors too, she thought. That he was now the one who was being awkward really did make it a little easier to take though. I mean, she knew the routines of a few of the regulars, so it wasn't as if she wasn't guilty of the same thing herself. "It's fine, really. There are a couple of people who you see here all the time. You get to know what they do, take note of their, ah" she touched her tongue to her top lip while struggling not to grin too hard, "form."

Thankful he was going to get a reprieve; he nodded while ditching his next pitch for 'I swear I'm not a creeper'. "I can see where it might come off a little strong though. It's not exactly like I go around asking women at the gym out. Or anywhere really, dating is hard." Chuckling to help ease the tension that now had taken up residence in his chest he shifted from the balls of his feet to his heels and gave the machines around them a cursory glance. Spotting one of her friends coming up on them he cleared his throat. "I um, think maybe I might have sent up a flare or something? Your friend isn't looking too impressed."

Maida had been enjoying the way his cheeks colored and how that color actually started in his ear lobes and just suffused his whole face. It was cute in a geeky sort of way that was endearing, if it were for Bevy deciding that Maida needed to be "rescued" as it were from Locke. "That's Bevy. She's fine, mostly. Just think of her in terms of a miniature terrier and you'll be fine; all yappy bark but very little bite." With her mouth twisted into a smirk, Maida turned and offered the oncoming blonde a brilliant, if strained smile.

"Bevy, you can't be done already?" Placing one hand on her hip, she stood hip shot while cupping the opposite hand across her waist to hang onto the one on her hip. This gave Locke a delightful view of her breasts, although he was sure that Maida was unaware of how it stretched the worn cotton against her.

"Darling, I just had to come over here when I thought you might be keeping someone from their workout. Our Maida, she's always up for a bit of friendly discussion, but you shouldn't let her keep you." Bevy eyed Locke with a lavish twist of her mouth.

Her friends features were pinched, but her eyes were sly. As she slid up next to Maida, she put an arm around her friend possessively, her voice chiding. To Locke it seemed like the pitch of it was just a little on the high side, her body vibrating with energy. She did in fact remind him of a small terrier and he couldn't help the small guffaw of laughter because of it.

He caught Maida's eye then with a raised brow that seemed to speak volumes because she offered him a secretive sort of smile that seemed to say, I told you so, in a way that made Locke rock back up on his heels. Brushing off the fact that the woman's words were pointedly barbed and aimed in Maida's direction, Locke couldn't help but interject, "actually it is my fault really. I seemed to have broken into her conversation with this lovely piece of gym equipment. I should let her get back to it." Grinning broadly, he reached out to brush just the tips of his fingers against her shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie. "I'll catch you around. Think about what I said?"

And with that, Maida was left to deal with the million questions that Bevy started in with the second Gym Guy, Locke, was out of earshot. Her arm where he'd touched her blazed, tingling fantastically. Sighing at her lost opportunity that no doubt she would never have again, she pulled her friend toward the glass door that led out to the spin class. If she were lucky, a little uphill torture and sweat would help to cool her jets. She really didn't need to be thinking of some hulky hunky guy while she should have been working out. Knowing her klutzy self, that was just begging for an injury that would require either surgery or a cast.

Fuck her damn luck.