Page 50 of Gilded in Blood

Maybe I imagined it. Maybe the sound came from somewhere outside.

I finish my run on the treadmill, breathing hard, and step off. My eyes drift across the gym and land on Ilya. It's just the two of us here.

He’s doing pull-ups on the bar in the corner, smooth and controlled, his powerful back and arm muscles flexing with every rep.

The black compression shirt he’s wearing clings to his body, damp with sweat, highlighting every ridge and line of his physique.

I don’t realize I’m staring until my mouth goes dry and heat crawls up my neck. I quickly look away, grabbing my water bottle and taking a long sip.

He drops down from the bar and wipes his face with a towel, glancing over at me. The silence between us feels charged.

I decide to break it. “So… do you always train this hard?”

“Keeps me in shape,” he replies, voice low, not offering anything more.

No doubt about that.

I nod, wiping sweat from my forehead. “What about music? Do you listen to anything while working out, or is it all silent and intense?”

A faint smirk tugs at his lips. “Depends on the day. Most of the time, I like to work out with nothing but my own thoughts for company.”

“That sounds boring.”

“It isn’t.”

“It would be for me.” I take a sip from my water bottle. “If I’m left alone with my thoughts for too long, I start remembering embarrassing things I did five years ago.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Only five?”

I let out a laugh. “Maybe more. So…” I lean back against the bench, taking a sip of water. “Random question.”

He glances at me. “That usually means trouble.”

I smile. “Favorite food?”

He thinks for a second. “Pelmeni.”

“Really?” I wrinkle my nose. “I was expecting something more exciting.”

“It’s food. It doesn’t need to be exciting.”

“You are painfully practical.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“What about movies?”

“I don’t watch many.”

“Books?”

“Sometimes.”

“What kind?”

“History. Philosophy.”

I nod slowly. “Do you have a favorite?”