Chapter 3 — Ryan

Ryan is about to start counting the cash in the register when the bell above the door sounds at 5:25 PM for the second time this week. And, for the third time in as many days, he feels his cheeks start to redden and his pulse quickens as he takes in the woman walking through the door.

Today, Trina's business attire is swapped for a pair of checkered yoga tights with splotches of maroon and pink, a sports bra, and a white vest top. She has her hair up into a bun and is carrying a yoga mat and an Adidas sports bag along with her handbag and laptop bag.

Ryan has to work very hard not to let his mouth drop when he sees she looks stressed.

"Trinnie, hey," Ryan says. "Everything ok?"

"The cake sank."

"Sank?"

"It has this huge dip in the middle." She says. "I think my oven is broken."

"Oh gosh," Ryan says. "Do you need some more cake mix? I can go grab you some on the house."

"No, no, I can't," Trina says, placing her hand on top of his on the counter, to stop him from leaving. It felt like it was to stop Ryan from breathing more like. It takes her a couple of seconds to realize what she's done and she quickly moves it. "I don't have time to make another cake this week, I'm teaching a class tonight and tomorrow. Oh god, when am I going to do this right?"

Ryan tries not to get distracted by the sight of her back and shoulder muscles. He wants to get lost in her, but Ryan does his best to distract her, to find out a little more about this woman who intrigues him so much.

"What are you teaching?"

"Oh, me—" Trina stutters. "Tonight, I'm having a barre class in a studio uptown, then tomorrow is my weekly elderly fitness session I do at a local retirement home."

"In a retirement home?" Ryan says. "That's amazing. Which one?"

"Red Oaks up on Chambry Street."

"You're kidding?" he says.

"Do you know it?"

"Yeah, we donate cakes and pastries to them for their coffee mornings on Wednesdays."

"Sometimes, I went to those as well before class."

"That's crazy?" Ryan says. "That we both have been there but never met? Do you know Devin?"

Trina chuckles. "Oh yeah. I know Devin!"

She smiles seemingly much calmer now. He watches her reach out to turn the charity tub around so that Trina can read which organization it supports—a local women's shelter.

"And a barre class? Is that a ballet thing?" Ryan asks, intrigued, noticing the definition in Trina's legs and the shape of her bottom. He tries not to stare for too long, but he can't help to do so.

"It's based on ballet, but it's more of a fitness class; strength training, cardio, and flexibility," Trina explains. Ryan nods along. "We use resistance bands and dumbbells, but mostly it's bodyweight stuff. This class has become quite popular in the city now, and the studio I work for is all female-owned, which is pretty cool too."

"That's interesting," Ryan says. "Can men join?"

"Of course!" Trina says. "Why, do you want to come?"

"It sounds like an intense workout." The thought of lifting any weights around Trina sounds appalling. He's spent most of the day frosting three hundred chocolate cupcakes with strawberry buttercream and his hands and wrists are aching.

"For sure," Trina says. "I can't stand the gym. I see you are fit. Do you work out regularly?"

"I rarely have the time so I end up doing stuff in the house and at buddy's place on the weekends." Ryan gestures to the shop around him and Trina nods. "I do pushups in the mornings regularly."

"Oh, me too," Trina smiles.

Ryan nods. "But aside from that, I normally unpack the delivery guy's van three times a week and play a bit of football when I can. My aunt and cousins own a field, so sometimes I'll help out there during the summer."

"Ah, so there's more than one family business you're involved with?"

"Baking and football, that's what us Dales do."

"That's really lovely," Trina says, glancing away. She checks the time on the fitness tracker.

"So I have a solution for your cake woes," Ryan says. "How about I defrost one of our 'emergency cakes' for you to come and collect tomorrow? It's fresh. What do you think?"

"No, I couldn't…" Trina says, but Ryan interrupts her. "It's not a problem. I have plenty in there that I made to restock for the busy season."

"Are you sure?" Trina says. Ryan knows she's being polite and offering him the out, but he declines and nods.

"Thank you," Trina exhales, grabbing his upper arm. "Thank you so much." Then, she leans over the counter to give Ryan a quick kiss on the cheek. Ryan clears his throat and she pulls away with a shy little smirk.

A car horn outside startles them and Trina blushes before dashing off. Ryan stands behind the register caught up in the moment, already dreading seeing her for perhaps the final time tomorrow.