Thank goodness it was Friday though. She looked forward to having the weekend off so she could get in some extra rest and relaxation. It would be a well-deserved break after her first week of working out.

So far, Adam had done a great job at varying up their sessions to keep her from becoming bored. And as surprising as it was, she had actually begun to enjoy the treadmill. Who knew the repetitive motion of walking would have a meditative quality to it?

If anyone had told her before that she would enjoy exercising, she would’ve laughed. Funny how things changed.

Yet one thing hadn’t changed. She’d run into Josh almost daily in the gym. Since they both worked at the shop during the day, it made sense that he would also work out in the evenings. But did it have to be at the same time she came in?

After agreeing to Adam’s stupid plan concerning Josh, she’d immediately regretted that decision. Adam—a guy she was hot for—had flirted with her just so another man she thought might make a good husband would notice. Needless to say, that had only made things awkward amongst all of them.

And the rest of the week had been more of the same.

This isn’t going to work.

Preslee worried that the only thing they were going to succeed in was making things weird between her and Adam. Well, weirder. But at this point, all she could do was keep running on the treadmill and hope that Josh didn’t walk through those gym doors today. Or any other day.

She glanced at Adam, who stood nearby watching closely as she sprinted on the machine. She was jogging at a much faster clip than she would’ve liked, and a sharp pain in her side made breathing difficult as her lungs strained for oxygen. Her tired legs hurt with each stride, and sweat ran in rivulets down her back beneath her shirt. Adam shouted encouragement from the sidelines, but she was panting too hard to understand the words coming out of his mouth.

Wait. Had he just said this was fun?

For who? Because it sure as heck wasn’t for her. She took back all of her nice thoughts about treadmills being therapeutic. They weren’t. They were evil.

Preslee glared at him with a look that she hoped resembled a death threat, and he finally motioned for her to stop. Thank heavens. She hit the button and breathed a huge sigh of relief as the machine slowed.

Once it stilled, she reached for the small towel that she’d left hanging over the rail. She blotted moisture from her forehead and then swiped the towel over the back of her sweaty neck to keep her hair from sticking to her skin. She sighed. Too late.