Page 74 of Not Safe for Work

I came here to release the tension in my shoulders, but I’m only growing increasingly aware of Rafe and the sheen of sweat glistening over his muscles. After a while, he pulls off his shirt and wipes his forehead, and if I wasn’t drooling before, then I definitely am now. I pull out my earbuds again.

“Excuse me,” I say, pointing to a large white sign on the wall. “Rule number nine says shirts must remain on in the workout room.”

He pretends to scrutinize the sign, squinting and rubbing his jaw. Then he winks. “So go report me.”

I almost laugh, but I hold it in. Our push and pull has always relied on maintaining the façade that I’m not enjoying this. And I wonder if it’s the same for him.

He returns to what he was doing, and I stare at his back, not at all distracted by the shadows and hollows of his muscle, and why is the light so good in here? He looks over his shoulder and grins, and my chest twists with a lurch.

I think about my night with Andy and how much I wanted to escape, but with Rafe, I want to remain suspended here forever. We’re not even doing anything—we’re barely speaking—but over the past two weeks, his presence has become a constant that makes me feel just a little more… whole. We went from two people standing on opposite sides of the room to whatever this is.

His gaze catches mine, a small smile playing on his lips, and I wonder if he feels this, too. He said we shouldn’t have kissed, so maybe not. But that kiss was too hot not to have meant anything to him. So maybe something is also holding him back.

After finishing my weights, I head to the stretching area. When Rafe is done, I get up, dust my butt off, and grab two bottles of water from the fridge, handing one over.

“Thanks.” He uses his still doffed shirt to twist off the cap and takes a long drink. If that fairy godmother returned, I’d use my second wish and ask to be turned into that water bottle.

Fuck, I need to get out of here.

I make my way for the elevator with Rafe on my heels. We stand at opposite ends of the tiny box as it fills with his scent and his entire presence. The light bounces off his abs and his chest, and I will myself to stare at a spot just above his shoulder so he doesn’t catch me gawking again.

“You’re strong,” he finally says, and I arch an eyebrow.

“For a girl, you mean.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“No, but it’s what you meant,” I challenge because I can’t help pushing him.

“Don’t put words in my mouth. It’s not what I meant. It was a compliment, freely and unsarcastically given.”

I bite my lip. “Fine. Thank you.”

“Your form is very nice,” I say, immediately blushing at my unintended double entendre.

Rafe gives me a wicked smile that might be my new favorite.

I think he likes this, too.

The bell dings and we arrive at our floor and enter the suite. The one we’re still sharing because Rafe turned down the second room. I’m dying to ask why, but something makes me hesitate, perhaps worried the answer isn’t the one I’m hoping for.

“You can take the first shower,” he says.

“I thought you were back to using the other bathroom?”

He lifts his brows and tilts his head. “Is it okay if I keep using the shower?”

“Yeah, of course. I’d never force someone to take a bath against their will.”

He smirks. “Not a bath person?”

“The only thing they’re good for is handwashing delicates and the occasional two-person, post-sex cleanup.”

We both freeze, tiny fractures forming in the space between us.

I meant that to be funny, except we kissed, and it was so hot, and I’ve just uttered the word sex in front of Rafe, and now that’s the only thing I’ll ever be able to think about again.

He hesitates, his fist tightening around his water bottle as it crackles.