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But time after time, I’m drawn back to Emmett. Drawn to him like I’m drowning and he’s my only hope of salvation.
It’s foolish, beyond foolish to get involved with him. Selfish to drag him into my mess. I’d be the biggest bitch if I fucked his life up. Could I live with myself if he ended up collateral damage? After watching him rise up and conquer everything the guys are throwing at him?
After what he did for me?
Probably not, but that selfish part of me doesn’t want me to think about it. Doesn’t want me to worry about what could happen.
She wants me to throw caution to the wind and dive in head first, despite the potential consequences. To take what I want for once in my life.
To live on my terms.
To finally be happy.
The longer I watch him, watch the sweat dripping off his shirtless body, his muscles tightening and flexing with tension. Watch him stare at me with an intense focus, like he’s proving to me in the most primal way possible that he’s the perfect mate, it’s getting harder to ignore her.
Harder not to give into the impulse to run up to him and throw myself at him.
“Earth to Bree!” Avery shouts beside me and I jump about a foot off my seat.
Tipping her head back, Avery laughs as I hit the chair and slap a hand over my chest.
“Shit, you nearly killed me,” I gasp as my heart races.
Dropping her chin, Avery’s eyes sparkle at me as her laughter quiets to a musical giggle. “I’ve been standing here for five minutes, saying your name.”
“What?” I ask dumbly.
There’s no way. She’s probably just messing with me.
“Five minutes,” she repeats, her glossy lips stretching into a grin. “For five minutes I’ve been trying to get your attention.”
My entire face instantly lights up with warmth and I find myself mumbling. “I… I…”
I really have no excuse. Yet again, I was caught staring at Emmett like a teenage girl that can’t help herself.
What the fuck is wrong with me? I’ve always had good self-control.
It must be all the testosterone in the air…
Avery gives me a consoling pat on the shoulder then turns her head to look in Emmett’s direction. “It’s okay, I don’t blame you for being distracted. They’re putting on quite the show.”
I turn my head to follow Avery’s line of sight. The guys have now moved over to the area with all the different types of bags they punch and kick.
“I think they might be trying to kill him,” I mutter quietly as I watch Dale and Chase take turns shouting at Emmett.
For his part, Emmett remains focused on the bag in front of him, his face set hard with concentration.
I can’t believe he hasn’t decked one of them yet.
Avery sighs. “It’s for his own good. He has a big fight coming up and only a short amount of time to prepare for it.”
Standing in front of a heavy bag, Emmett gives it a quick one-two, punching first with his left fist then his right. But when he lifts his leg to deliver a kick, he seems to struggle, obviously flagging.
I’ve been watching him work out for what feels like hours, and I’m surprised he hasn’t just keeled over from exhaustion. I would have been flat on my face after two minutes of what he’s been through.
But do either of the guys give him a break? No. Dale steps right up to Emmett, yelling something about him being an out of shape pussy.
And I find my hands clenching into fists in response. Part of me wants to stomp right over to Dale and punch him in his face to show him who’s the real pussy.
