Shaw set down the bottle of cleaner and the towel. “He let you in after hours?”
He really wanted to say, He let you in, knowing who you are? What the fuck?
“I may have had to do a little convincing,” she admitted, holding up her thumb and forefinger and pinching air. “He’s pretty protective of you. Good thing to have in a friend.”
Shaw tilted his head, confused. “Why are you here?”
His mind raced through the possibilities. Maybe she was here to yell at him now that it’d sunk in that he’d lied to her. Maybe she’d changed her mind about outing him. Maybe she’d told people…
Taryn bit her lip, contemplating, as if she were nervous. “Well, there are a few reasons, but the first is that I need your help.”
That was the last thing he’d expected her to say. “Help.”
She tucked her hands in her back pockets, which only made that sweater look more spectacular on her, and stepped a little closer. “Yeah. I wanted to talk to you about it and not just go through Rivers.”
Rivers? Shaw wasn’t tracking at all. Maybe because she was so close and smelled so good, his thoughts were scrambling. “Talk about what?”
She cocked her head toward the set of weight benches he’d been cleaning. “Can we sit?”
He nodded. “Yeah, sure.”
He sat on the bench he was closest to, and she took a spot on the one across from him, their knees only a few inches apart. Her scent drifted toward him, cutting through the astringent tang of cleaner and filling the space between them with the smell of orange and vanilla.
She braced her hands on her thighs and looked at him, something vulnerable there. “All right, I’ll just get straight to the point. I know I told you the night of the workout that I had a big presentation with the school board coming up.”
He had to hold back a frown, remembering the video he’d watched. “Right.”
“Well, it didn’t go well,” she said flatly, her focus sliding to some spot over his shoulder as though she was seeing the terrible meeting play out again. “It went pretty much the opposite of well. It was—”
“I saw.” The words slipped out.
Her gaze flicked back to his. “What?”
Shut up. You sound like a damn creeper. But it was too late. She’d heard him loud and clear. “Yeah. The night you told me about it, I saw how much it meant to you, that it was a big deal. I wanted to know how it went, so I looked up the video.”
Her nose wrinkled like she smelled something bad. “So you saw me fail spectacularly.”
“No, I saw a bunch of people who had already made up their minds and weren’t listening to you,” he said, unable to hide his irritation. “I’m sorry it didn’t go well.”
“Thanks. It sucked, and you’re right. They didn’t listen, but I’m tired of walking around complaining about it,” she said, a line of steel running through her tone, hardening the words. “My parents always told me that you can’t wait around for other people to do something. You want action, you be the action. That’s why I need your help.”
For a moment, he didn’t respond. He was too captivated, seeing the strength and resolve rise in Taryn. He’d seen her softer side, her vulnerable side when she’d run off the stage at the bar and when she’d fallen at the race. This woman before him was different. This was the woman who’d walked through tragedy and fought her way to this point. This was the professor who’d spent her life busting her ass to get answers. This woman was tough. But then the rest of her words registered. “My help?”
“Yes.” She gripped the edge of the bench and leaned forward. “I stepped down from my position at the university this week.”
“You did what? Why?”
“Because I need to get this program into schools, Shaw. If the school board can’t help, then I need to do it on my own. The university is granting me leave through the summer to try to get my program funded myself, but that’s hardly any time at all. I need to act fast if I want to be able to go back to my job after this launches.” She met his gaze. “That’s where you and Rivers come in.”
“I don’t understand,” Shaw said, his pulse picking up speed. He didn’t want to come into anything involving Long Acre. He could feel himself leaning back.
Hell. No.
“I’m going to make a series of videos to promote the program and raise funds, but I need to have a fund-raiser to get seed money to start the project. Some kind of event that I can put together quickly, that doesn’t cost too much, and that would appeal to a lot of people.” She turned her head, looking at all the equipment and obstacles around them. “I need your gym, Shaw. For one day. One big event. It will be like the costume run, but people can compete here instead. Maybe some kind of team event. I was thinking maybe people could sponsor high school athletes—ones who’d have a good shot at completing the course. That’d get their parents and families to come, too. We could offer prizes.”
Horror worked its way through him. “Taryn—”
“It would promote the gym, too,” she said, rushing past his interruption. “It would get a bunch of people in here to see what y’all have put together. People will probabl