Free The Boyfriend Sessions by Belinda Williams Page B

see his eyes, I was sure he was making fun of me.
    “Thank God,” I breathed, my turn to receive a quizzical look. I shrugged, a playful grin forming. “There’s still some nerd in there after all. I was beginning to think the Max I grew up with and this Max were two different people.”
    “Really?” His tone was a little incredulous.
    We stood to grab some hand weights. “I didn’t recognize you at first,” I admitted.
    “Come on. Am I that different?”
    “I haven’t seen you for about six years, remember.”
    We were silent for a while, while we did the series of reps that Brett demonstrated, but Max clearly wasn’t ready to drop the conversation.
    “In what ways am I different?”
    I dropped my weights and looked at him, deadpan. “You’re at boot camp, Max.”
    His loud laugh had Brett raising an eyebrow in our direction. I slipped on the boxing gloves and waited while Max put the pads on his hands.
    “Plus, you don’t wear those ridiculous t-shirts anymore,” I mentioned casually, before I pounded his waiting hands.
    My focus slipped for a second when I noticed him color slightly at my comment. There was something both comforting and reassuring about Max still being a little on the nerdy side. Sure, he presented better these days, but he wouldn’t be nearly so approachable if he was distracted by his own self-worth. He let me finish my reps then we swapped gear.
    “Am I any different?” I asked, curious if he’d noticed any change.
    Max pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head and his warm eyes met mine, sending an unexpected jolt down my spine. He smiled, affectionately. “Same old Bubbles, as far as I can tell.”
    I sighed. “Apparently that’s the problem if you ask my girlfriends,” I muttered grouchily. “Come on, hit me.”
    He laughed again, then got into the rhythm of his reps. I wondered how long he’d been doing this sort of exercise. His hits were judged perfectly, with just the right amount of force behind them—enough to make me work to brace him, but not enough to knock me off my feet.
    “When did you get into the whole exercise thing?” I asked when we were finished.
    He shrugged. “Years ago now. It was when I was working my way up the ranks of my company. The days were long and sometimes the pressure was intense. I remember taking my Dad’s head off one night when he called to see how I was doing and he told me to get a grip.”
    “Oh?” Will Spencer for the most part was a calm man and words like that were rare.
    “Yeah. He reminded me I wasn’t curing cancer and it would do me good to have a stress release. Gave me a gym membership to get me started and an appointment with a fitness instructor and I haven’t looked back.”
    “It’s sanity saving,” I agreed. At his questioning look, I gave him a grim smile. “Hours upon hours at a computer most days, the last thing I need to do is go home and sit on the lounge. I need to get active.”
    We spoke little for the rest of the class as the cardio ramped up. I had to work hard and still felt as though I was pushing against an invisible wall, but was pleased that I managed to keep up. When we finished half an hour later, I happily collapsed next to my backpack and took a long gulp of water.
    Max sat down less dramatically beside me and toweled a line of glistening sweat from his forehead. “Busy day ahead?”
    I nodded. “First meeting with the potential new client Maddy’s probably told you about.”
    “Sounds like it could be big news.”
    “We’ve got to win it first.”
    “That’s why Maddy brought you on board.”
    “I’m sure she’s got longer term plans for me as well, but I hope I can help with this pitch. My part is just one aspect, though.” The account service team had spent hours and late nights finalizing the presentation.
    “Well, she’s pretty happy to have you there,” he said, standing.
    I ignored my overworked muscles and rose to my feet. “All part of her evil plan for world