With a grunt of frustration, I push through the doors to the women's locker room and let them slam behind me, earning me a concerned look from a girl at the sinks. I offer her a sheepish wave in apology.
It’s a fairly exclusive setup, which makes this gym one of my personal favorites. Spanning over four floors, with a pool in the basement, there’s always a trainer around to correct my form or put together a new workout plan.
And on days when I feel too haggard even to face working out, the spa is more than accommodating.
I make my way up to the second floor today though, ready to hop on the treadmill and run until I forget my own damn name.
There’s something about the repetitiveness of shoving one foot in front of the other that is so mindlessly boring that it lulls my brain into a sort of sleep state.
And there’s nothing I want more than to notthinkfor a bit.
Shoving my headphones in, I begin my warm-up walk and stretch out my arms, longing for my brain to just shut the hell up.
You wouldn’t be this stiff if you hadn’t let him bend you over the?—
“Hey!”
I almost jump out of my skin at the sight of a man leaning against my treadmill, one muscled arm draped lazily over the center console, begging for attention.
“Can I help you?” I say as I remove my headphones, somewhat annoyed by the interruption.
Clearly noting the abrasive tone, he leans away from the console in faux offense. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
His voice is smooth as butter with just the right amount of teasing. I rake my eyes over him unashamedly, as I always do when an attractive man plucks up the courage to approach me.
Except this time, I feel the disappointment setting in way too soon.
His mop of sandy brown hair is too heavily styled. His muscles are too perfectly honed by repetition at the gym instead of manual labor. Even his dark eyes feel more like murky water than the endless night sky.
I freeze.
Stop it, Isabella.
“Um…no, it’s fine.” I find myself fumbling for flirtatious things to say. All I want is for him to leave me alone.
“I just wanted to say, if you’re looking to work on your glutes, you might want to try an incline first,” he smirks, eyes drifting down my body to the relevant muscle. “Although I don’t think you need it.”
I feel my jaw twitch. “I’m sorry, do you work here?”
He shrugs. “Just a good samaritan, really. Can’t help myself when there’s a gorgeous woman in need of my assistance.”
I glance around the room, suddenly feeling quite uncomfortable that there aren’t that many people around.
“I don’t need your help,” I reply cooly and go to put my headphones back on.
Only he doesn’t like that.
His arm snaps out of nowhere, grabbing my wrist to stop me.
“Let. Me. Go,” I seethe.
“Come on, I was just being nice!”
I can’t stand it, the way his eyes roam over me like I’m some kind of prize he has a hideous claim over. The only small satisfaction is seeing him linger on the mark on my neck.
Someone has claimed me already.
Ignoring my traitorous brain, I take action instead, twisting suddenly out of his grip to knock him off balance, before grabbing his hair to quickly slam his head onto the console.
