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It’s not like men come by that kind of body without a lot of effort.
“Scout?” I ask, as he turns away.
He looks back at me, a hint of hopefulness now lighting inside him.
He stares at me as if I’m the answer to everything he’s desperate to know.
Too bad it’s Scarlett he’s looking at.
My guts twist up as I realize I can’t do a damn thing to make him feel better.
I’m not Scarlett, and I don’t want to give him false hope.
“Do you mind if I clean in the gym while you work out?” I ask.
He gives me a weak smile. “I don’t mind.”
Translation: He does mind, but he doesn’t want to say it.
I follow him into the gym anyway, ready to wipe down all the equipment like I did yesterday.
I tell myself I’m not really attracted to him, or his pack brothers, but I can’t help watching as he warms up with stretches before he begins his routine.
He works out quietly, and I realize I’m being quiet, too.
Scarlett isn’t quiet when she’s doing boring things.
Chores make her loud. She sings, or whistles, or starts calling through to people in other rooms.
These guys wouldn’t know that, but it’s probably weird to them that I’ve been kind of quiet.
My story about being dumped helps with that, I know, but if I’m going to get through the rest of the week, I’m probably going to have to step a little outside of my comfort zone.
I move over to where Scout is while he’s between sets on the different machines.
“How does this one work?” I ask, stepping onto the treadmill, and realizing the control panel does seem a little bit complicated now that I’m looking at it.
He moves to my side, and my stomach flutters at how close he gets to me.
I breathe in and wonder what it is that makes man-sweat so sexy.
He smells musky and I know he’d be warm if I touched him.
It makes me a little breathless.
“This sets the incline,” he tells me, keeping me steady as the treadmill moves slightly.
He’s so warm, and hard and his heart is racing just like mine.
Lust rushes through his body. Lust, and something much more primal.
My breath catches in my throat.
I accept that lust as if it’s my own, leaning into the feeling and letting it intoxicate me just a little.
If he made a move right now, I’m not sure I’d be able to resist.
I want him too much.
