“I didn’t. I called Allie, she called Atlas, and he gave my number to Heath. He said the gym is closed today.”
“It is.” Heath wanted one day during the week when he could give his staff off. Sometimes the day rotates, but this Sunday no one is there.
“He said you have a key.”
“I do.”
“I’ll get breakfast and meet you there.”
“You want to eat in the gym,” I say slowly.
“I want you to show me what you love,” he says softly.
“Okay.” I move my hand to my heart, and I fear he can hear it through the phone.
“Can you be ready in an hour?”
I glance around me. “Yes.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
“An hour,” I whisper.
“Bye, baby.”
I drop the phone and stare at it. How does he know how to make all the right moves? It would be annoying if it weren’t so fucking sweet.
“Shit,” I breathe, jumping to my feet.
I turn in a circle. Grabbing a pair of ripped cutoff shorts and a loose tank, I hustle to the bathroom. Luckily, I shaved yesterday. All I have to do is shower and put on makeup. I stare into the mirror. My panic is gone.
All I feel is excitement.
How? How is he so hot?
I park my car and stare at the man leaning against the side of his vehicle, a large bag in his hand. His sunglasses are shielding his eyes, his arm is lying across the hood, and his ankles are crossed. His black t-shirt is stretched across his well-defined chest. I didn’t see the tattoos covering his arms last night. They are colorful, and I have the urge to trace them. The jeans he wears are slightly loose, and if he lifted his arms, I would be able to see his abs.
So sexy. My mate oozes sexiness.
I turn off my car, and he walks toward it. I love the way he moves. The strength of his form is evident, and his stride is confident. I wait, enjoying the view, and using the few seconds to tell my body to calm down.
He grins and opens my door.
“I missed seeing your face,” he says, cupping the top of the frame. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving.” I smile, grab my purse, and stand. He steps back and waits for me to move out of the way before shutting the door. I press the lock, and he holds out his free hand.
“It’s an impressive building,” he says, and I lace my fingers with his. “He must use the space for more than fighting.”
“Yeah.” We walk toward the front door. “There is a traditional gym on one floor. He offers self-defense for women on the other."
“Admirable.”
“He would never describe himself that way,” I laugh, unlocking the door.
“Why?”
“Before we moved here, he had another business.” I enter the building and turn on the lights. “It was the same concept, but some of the fights were kill or be killed.” I wait as he closes the door, and then I lead the way through the building. “Most of the time, it was justified.”
