"You should hit that," JD says, appearing out of nowhere.

I step back and put my hands up. "Hold on here, guys. First off, she's your sister." I point at Harrison who shrugs. "Secondly, I'm not hitting anything." JD grins. "And third, shouldn't Harrison be the one giving me the third degree?" Liam doesn't say anything because he's too busy pushing the dumbbell back into place. "I just met her. She's pretty, but give me a break, guys. I'm trying to be respectful here."

"So you admit that you think Yvie is hot?" JD says, raising his eyebrows.

I throw my hands up and walk away, letting them finish their workout.

"At least we know he can count to three," Liam says, causing the other two to start laughing. I give them the bird as I disappear into my office.

I'm not in my office thirty seconds when Harrison pokes his head in. "You had to know it was coming."

"Nothing happened, I swear."

"It can. I mean, if you wanted it to and she was game. I'm not that big brother, in case you're wondering. I mean, I'd kill you if you hurt her, but she's an adult and can make her own choices. Just be sure to wrap your dick." He shuts the door before I can even respond.

I bang my head on my desk in quick succession. I feel like I'm back in high school stuck in the locker room after watching the cheerleaders practice. Every guy got a stiffy for them, especially our freshman year, except she's not a cheerleader. She's a ballerina with a smoking hot body, killer eyes and thinking about her makes me hard. I can't even consider the fact that she's one of my best friends' sister. The only thing that matters is that she's leaving, and I'm not into long distance romances, Skyping and waiting in overcrowded airports. I want the real thing, in living color.

After the last gym member leaves, I shut off the lights. All this week I've let my staff leave early so they can finish their Christmas shopping or prepare their holiday meals. My mom used to start baking the week before Christmas so I know what it's like. I didn't cut any hours; everyone has been working during the day, which has proved beneficial since the gym is spotless, all the equipment is cleaned and we're fully stocked for the New Year.

The chime on the door signals, telling me that someone has just walked in. It would've made sense that I locked the door when I turned off the lights, but any sense I had today has been living in my nether region.

"We're closed," I yell out as I walk around the corner. I stop dead in my tracks when I see Yvie standing in the middle of the gym glowing like an angel thanks to the street lights shining in from outside. She's carrying a plate in her hands and is looking everywhere but at me.

"I didn't realize you closed so early."

I shrug and take a few steps toward her. The smell of brownies, cookies and all-round goodness meets my senses, reminding me that it's been years since I've had someone bake for me.

"I thought people needed time to shop and didn't want them to feel guilty that they hadn't worked out so I'm closing early this week."

Yvie nods and continues to look past me. "These are for you. The kids and I were baking and I thought . . . I don't know, it's probably stupid. I don't really eat sweet things because I'm always watching my weight"

"You don't need to." That statement gets her attention, and her eyes meet mine. There's a small hint of a smile, but it quickly fades. This woman has been damaged, and it makes me see red. No man, regardless of his position, should ever tell a woman she's fat. Curves or no curves, women are beautiful.

Yvie walks to the counter and sets down the plate. I'm tempted to rush over, snatch it from her hands and rip off the cover. I have a feeling she's a damn good cook in the kitchen, which is one reason she worries so much about keeping her weight down.

"I should probably go. I have to find a place to practice. I thought I could convince myself I need a vacation, but I find myself needing to go through my routine." Yvie looks away and sighs. "I'm sorry, you didn't need to hear me ramble. I'll let you finish closing up.

"Wait," I say, reaching out to stop her. Our hands touch and the hairs on my arm stand. My skin instantly feels clammy, and if I didn't know any better I'd think I'm sick, but that's not the case right now.

"You can practice here. I have the mirrors and can move some of the equipment to give you space."

I don't give her a chance to tell me no. I set off and start moving as much as I can without assistance. I'm by no means a weight lifter, but the adrenaline pumping through me right now is giving me enough force to move mountains.

Sweat beads form on my forehead and neck. I pull my shirt off to wipe my face, neck and back. Her gasp freezes my actions. I pull my shirt away slowly and drop it to the floor. The air in the room is thick, laden with tension still left over from last night. I turn away, breaking our concentration on each other, reminding myself that not only is she Harrison's sister, but she's just passing through.

I turn on the sound system, and change the station to something softer. When I turn toward the space I just cleared, Yvie is standing in front of the mirror in nothing but a sports bar and some very tight shorts. The pants and sweatshirt she was wearing earlier are long forgotten. She's barefoot and her legs are slightly spread apart. Her head rolls as her shoulders shrug, loosening up her muscles.

Yvie starts moving to the music with a tremendous amount of grace and elegance. I've never paid much attention to any type of dancer before, and I'm quickly realizing that this is the finest form of art I've ever seen. Walking to the weight bench, I sit down and watch. Yvie is in a trance and doesn't know I'm even in the room. Her eyes are focused on the mirror as she watches me watch her. I've never been so turned on in my life. A private dance meant just for me.

Her hips swivel to the music as her hands find her hair. I'm jealous of the mirror for getting the show it is. I swallow hard when her hand rubs over her bra-clad breast and her chest rises. I want to be the one to elicit that movement from her.

I close my eyes and chide myself for getting hard from watching her. She's working, I'm just an ignorant observer, but my body thinks otherwise. It wants her. I want her. From the moment she walked into my gym with Katelyn, she turned me on and watching her now is doing nothing to curb my appetite for her. It's only whetting it, making it stronger.

My eyes spring open when weight is added to my lap. She's straddling me, rocking against me. My hands grip her hips pushing her back and forth, faster. Yvie's hands pull at my hair, tilting my neck to the side. Her teeth graze my earlobe causing me to hiss. This is by far the most erotic out-of-body moment I've ever experienced.

"Can I touch you?" I beg her with my voice. Her answer is to pinch my nipple, causing my cock to react even more. I slide the strap of her sport bra over her shoulder, pulling it down just below the most perfect set of breasts I have ever been graced with. The bra settles underneath, pulling them closer and leaving her tits on perfect display. Her right one is in my mouth, as my hand massages and tweaks her left. I alternate quickly, lapping and sucking her taut nipples.

Yvie scoots back, cutting me off from having my fantasy play out. Every man has dreamt of having sex in a gym. I knew this was too good to be true. That is until she stands and shimmies out of her ballet shorts. She stands before me partially naked and perfect. I look into her eyes, shining and alight with passion. I stand and awkwardly try to remove my shorts and boxers as fast as possible. She walks toward me, pushing me back onto the bench. I swallow hard as my hands come into contact with her outstanding ass. I squeeze her gently, pulling her forward as her hand wraps around my rigid cock.

I'm used to being in control when it comes to sex, but this woman is taking whatever it is that she needs from me, and I'm willing to give her everything if it means I get to experience her for a brief moment.

Yvie straddles and guides me to where she needs me the most. Maybe this is what she needs, someone who can appreciate her magnificent body. If that's the case, I can do this all night long.

My eyes roll back and Yvie sits on me, enveloping me in her sweet-as-sin pussy. She places her hands on my chest, pushing me to lie back. I hiss as she moves up and down, using the weight bar for leverage. Her breasts bounce, asking me to hold them, and I do.

I sit up, unable to take it anymore. I need to feel her body against mine, but she's not having it. She leans back, placing her hands behind her on the bench, her flexibility paying off in spades. My eyes leave hers and travel to where we're connected. To where she's riding my cock. It's the hottest fucking thing I've ever witnessed or been a part of. I reach down and rub my thumb over her clit and watch as her head falls back. Yvie moans, sending shock waves to my dick. The urgency to come is there. I grab her hips, increasing the tempo.

I scream out when her walls start squeezing the shit out of my cock and for the first time, she kisses me. Her lips are hard against mine, her tongue dominating. I forget everything as I hold the back of her head, unwilling to let this kiss end. I jerk once, twice, as I empty into her. She knows that she's won this battle. Her hips slow down and she slowly moves off of me. I look at her, but she looks away, her lower lip between her teeth.

Reaching out, I pull it out and place a soft kiss there before getting up. My shorts are tangled around just one ankle and I try to step into them without falling on my face.

"Let me go grab something to clean up," I say before disappearing into the locker room. It was stupid to say, but thanking her for rocking my world seemed worse.

When I come back into the gym, she's not on the bench. In fact, she's nowhere to be seen. Her coat, clothes and shoes are gone.

She's left.

Chapter 7Yvie.

I've never been a last-minute shopper until this year. Now I'm shoulder to shoulder with angry women fighting for the very last game console that every child needs this year. I've never waited this long, and as I walk through the crowded mall, I can't help but think I knew subconsciously that I wouldn't be in New York this Christmas because, by my calculations, I should've had this all done and shipped out here to Beaumont.

I also hate shopping by myself. Even though Katelyn and I bought some presents a few days ago, there are still a few more gifts that I need to buy. Katelyn had to fill in for Josie because she's not feeling great. Katelyn is hoping that's it's morning sickness and that Josie and Liam are finally expanding their family. According to Katelyn, they're trying and have been since before they married almost two years ago but they still haven't conceived. She says that Josie is starting to freak out.

I don't blame her though. I think that when a woman wants a child, it's all she thinks about. After the other night, it's what I should be thinking about. We didn't use protection and while I was there, experiencing him that way, I couldn't have cared less. I just wanted what he was offering. I was so stupid for going to the gym to confront Xander. Everything I had planned to say went out the door as soon as I saw him. My brother was likely trying to get under my skin when he started teasing me about their earlier conversation, and he succeeded. Just not the way he thought. It pissed me off that Xander would discuss me with the guys while they worked out.

The night he showed up, I was nervous. I hadn't eaten that much with the kids and after the little instigators ditched me and the wine came out, I couldn't suck it down fast enough. Just looking at Xander makes me want to forget my life in New York.

What I did at the gymI've never done anything like that. It was raw and pure. Being with Xander like that made me feel like a woman who could conquer the world. I hate that I left without saying goodbye. I just couldn't face him after what we did. To say I'm physically attracted to Xander would be an epic understatement. Not only do I have Katelyn reminding me of how hot he is, but the way he carries himself shows me that he's one hundred percent pure man. And I thought I could keep up my wall and not let anyone chip away at it. I was so wrong.

Oliver isn't anything like Xander when it comes to sex. Oliver is boringI guess it's how I'd describe him after what I experienced last night. Lights off, only in a bed and always at night. Maybe it's age, or maybe it's me. And maybe Xander is just a better lover or maybe Oliver thinks I'm the one who's boring.

No, Xander isn't a lover, at least not to me. He probably thinks of me as a slut for what I did last night. Going there with a plate of food as my excuse to see him was wrong. It was like an out-of-body experience, except I enjoyed every tantalizing moment. I welcomed every touch, and every caress. I begged for him to grab my hips and pull me roughly against him. And when I kissed himthat's when I knew I couldn't stay there. I would've ended up in his bed and never left. He made me feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman-minus the paid-for sex part.

The sex was . . . like nothing I had ever experienced before. It was sensual and erotic and all consuming. It was everything and nothing I thought a random hook-up would be. Xander could've taken control at any time, but he let me lead the way. He was patient and willing to submit to my desires. From the moment he took his shirt off, I knew that I was going to do whatever I could to get close to him. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to be the one who wiped the sweat away from his torso. I wanted to be able to feel his muscles flex because of my touch. Watching him in the mirror as I danced made my body tingle with anticipation of what he and I could be together. I wanted to know what he felt like against my body. If I could play that on rewind, I would. Just remembering that moment is enough to have me running back to his gym just to stare at the piece of furniture that withstood everything he was giving me.

I sit down in the center of the mall and people watch. From my vantage point, I have a clear view of the candy store, the mall Santa Claus, a hat store, plus all the kiosks that clog up the open mall space during the holidays. My fingers crumple the piece of paper in my jacket pocket. It's my Christmas list and there are only two things on there: one for Harrison and the other for Quinn. I'm at a loss as to what I should buy for the twins or Katelyn. Fact of the matter is, I don't know them well enough to shop for them. If I were still in New York, I'd probably send something from FAO Schwartz for the twins, but I'm here and I'll be watching them open their gifts on Christmas morning. Impression is everything.

Buying for Katelyn shouldn't be too bad, but it is. My brother spoils her, dotes on her. She mentions that she likes something and it's in the house the next day. When he does stuff like that it makes it hard for my mom and me to buy her something special. And that's my conundrumwhat do I buy three of the most important people in my brother's life for Christmas?

I sigh heavily as two ladies walk by. They give me a dirty look and for the life of me I can't understand why. Do they not feel the holiday pressure? Maybe this is telling me that I'm not cut out for family life, that being single and living in an apartment in one of the busiest cities is all that I'm meant for.

I remove the tattered piece of paper from my pocket and roll it into a ball. I unroll and roll again just out of frustration.

"What did that paper do to you?" Xander's voice startles me, and instantly my heart starts racing and my body takes me back to the gym . . . the weight bench . . . and his hands gripping my hips. He'll never know this, but he left bruises. He marked me, and I enjoyed it.

He sits down next to me and rests his elbows on his legs. He turns and looks at me. I can't maintain eye contact because I'm embarrassed about what we did, about what I did and how I left things. We hold each other's gazes until I have to look away. I'm afraid if I stare at him too long, I'll see something that might scare me, like the truth about our one night stand.

"I'm glad I ran into you," he says.

"Oh yeah, why's that?" I can't imagine why he wants to even talk to me.

"I don't like the way things were left the other night. That's not who I am, and I'm pretty sure that wasn't you either."

I scoff. "It was me, I was there." I play it off like our night together was no big deal. I don't want him to see through me, to see the anguish I'm dealing with. The thought of him telling me to leave or him thanking me are other factors for me bailing as soon as he went to the bathroom.

He sits up, and shakes his head. "I'm not talking about that, I'm talking about how things were when you left."

I turn slightly to face Xander and wish I hadn't. Seeing him here like this and sitting next to me makes me wish the other night didn't happen. But it did and now I have to pay the price. "Look, I'm sorry about last night. It never should've happened. I put you in a horrible situation, and that's wrong. I can understand if you don't want to be friends and avoid me like the plague until I'm gone. I promise not to make the holidays uncomfortable for you. I'll be out of town in no time."

Xander's lips go into a thin line as he shakes his head. Disappointment masks his features. Who knew coming clean about being a psycho was a bad thing?

"Sometimes I think you talk too much. I don't regret the other night. Yes, there are some things I'd like to change, but being with you, like that . . . I've never felt so out of control and completely calm in my life. You're like this pint-sized hurricane that's rolling through town, and I'm the weather man chasing the storm. I'm not gonna lie, last night was amazing-different, but worth it. You're like a fantasy come true."

Xander pauses and watches the shoppers. There's a group of young kids, a few with their arms around each other that seem to be having a good time. They're laughing and carrying on. One of the guys is even holding his girlfriend's shopping bags.

"I think you and I got off on the wrong foot, and so what if we did things a little backwards? You're here for a week or so and need to have a good time. It just so happens that I'm available if you're interested."

Xander juts out his arm, giving my hand a resting place if I chose to accept.

"One condition," I say, putting the power back into my hands.

"What's that?"

"That you don't tell my brother, Liam or Jimmy what happened."

Xander laughs that stupid guy laugh where he's not sure if he's been caught or if he's heard something stupid. He picks up my hand and places his lips there in one of the sweetest moments of my life.

"I'd never tell your brother, or anyone else for that matter, about us. That's between us, and only us. I know the guys gossip like women, but I'm still on the outside. And even though I have your brother's blessing, I think I'd rather keep our escapades between us."

"Excuse me, what?" I ask, confused as to why he was asking Harrison for his blessing. "You asked my brother?"

Xander puts his hands up. "It's not what you're thinking. He came to me, and said he wouldn't have a problem if we dated."

"Oh," I say, immediately feeling stupid. "That's just . . . I don't have a dad, ya know? He died when I was a baby and Harrison has always been the man of the house. So, wow, I guess he approves of you." I try to force a smile, but fail miserably. Xander pulls me into his arms, and I use this to my advantage to smell his cologne. He smells like home. I know it sounds odd, but it's the best way to describe it. I feel at ease in his arms.

"I'm sorry about your dad; Harrison never mentioned it. And for the record, I'm happy he gave me permission because I'd like to spend as much time with you as possible until you leave."

I pull away and wipe under my eyes. I'm not crying, but my eyes are misty. "I think I'd like that too. It sucks being the fifth wheel."

Xander laughs, and it's the most beautiful sound I've heard in a long time. "You have no idea."

Chapter 8Xander.

Bumping into Yvie at the mall was not by mistake. Quinn is quite the little matchmaker when he wants to be. I know it's wrong asking a child for dirt on his aunt, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I needed to see her, so I went to Harrison's. She wasn't there, but Quinn was all too forthcoming with the fact that she left to go shopping. Fate was on my side when I walked in and there she was, sitting in the "man" section as Liam calls it.

I stood there, watching her for a few minutes before approaching. Truth be told, I was working up the nerve to face her. What she and I did last night was every fantasy I've ever had, but I never thought it would play out like that. Now every time I close my eyes, I see her in the mirror begging me with her eyes. My gym will never be the same after last night. Her body is nothing like the women I see coming in and out of the gym. Her long legs and dancer body are a turn on, and I didn't know that's what I'd be attracted to until I saw her.

Sitting next to her, I find myself wanting to take her back to my house. Not for sex, although I wouldn't rule that out, but just to be with her in private. To hold her, to be the shoulder she leans into when the movie we're watching is too sad or she's scared. I find myself wanting to cook her dinner and massage her feet after a long day of rehearsals. The latter is a long-term dream that I don't foresee happening. I shouldn't even be thinking past the end of the week. She's not staying here.

The urge to hold her hand is strong, but I resist. I think she needs a friend, not some horny ass man trying to get in her pants. Besides, Harrison mentioned that her producer used to be her boyfriend. I don't want to think that the other night was a rebound fuck, but the thought has been plaguing my mind.

Thing is, I can see Yvie as someone with whom to settle down. The only problem in my thought process is that she's a big city girl who doesn't need small town life. It has nothing to offer her and frankly, neither do I. When you're someone like Yvie Jamesperforming on Broadwaythe last thing that looks appealing is a gym owner.

My problem is that I overthink everything. Yvie and I are both adults and capable of making our own decisions. I could go down the friends' route and just hang out with her while she's here, or I can break my own heart and put it all out there for her. The third option is to do both. Take whatever this connection is between us and make the best of it, and if that means we end up naked and on my weight bench with her legs straddling me, so be it. I'll just be there when she gets on the plane and heads back to New York City.

I take her hand in mine and start walking. She has a list of presents to buy and if it means I get to spend the day with her, I'm going to brave the crowds.

"Who do you have left to buy for?" I ask her as we meander through the hoards of people.

"The twins," she says as she lets out a sigh. I can't tell if it's from frustration or if she's just being dramatic.

I laugh, hoping to put her at ease. "Is that a good thing?"

"No, it's not. I don't know them very well so I'm really not sure what to buy them. With Quinn, it's easy. With Peyton and Elle, not so much."

One of the benefits of living in Beaumont is going to be my savior. "I can help, you know, if you want me to? I've spent some time with them and know what they like."

Yvie stops us, much to the disgruntled shoppers who have to move around us. "Am I a bad aunt for not spending more time with them?"

I move us to the side so we aren't bumped and pushed by others. "Many people live away from their relatives. You can't think that you're a bad aunt because you don't know what the girls like. Quinn grew up with you and the twins have only just come into your life. You need time to get to know them."

"I know, but how do I do that living in New York?"

"Tell Harrison that he has to bring the kids to you for at least a month every summer," I say with a smirk. Her face lights up acknowledging that I am a genius. "C'mon, twinkle toes, let's get this shopping done." I put my arm around her shoulders and pull her into me. It'd be so easy to capture her lips, but I refrain. I opt for the ever platonic kiss on the forehead and call it good.

Within two steps of entering the holiday foot traffic, my hand drops from her shoulder, my fingers entwining with hers. It's more intimate, at least for me. I direct Yvie to a very girly store. I've seen these bags litter the James' house so I know one of the girls likes to shop here. My guess is Elle. She's the princess in the making, always trying to steal the spotlight. It's not hard with how shy Peyton is, and without a doubt Quinn is her protector. I've been around enough to watch him with her. He's always in front, guarding her from whatever may come her way.