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“There’s only one loser here, Cirillo. And that’s the one standing looking with a hard-on for a girl he can’t have. I suggest you stop in the shop on the way home and buy yourself a new tub of lube, because you’ve got some long, lonely nights ahead of you.”
“It’s cute that you think I care that these arseholes know I want you. Hell, I bet most of them are hard for you right now too.”
I scoff, keeping my eyes on him, not wanting to look at anyone else and have that statement confirmed.
He surges forward, his hot fingers wrapping around my throat as a gasp ripples through our spectators.
“Only difference is, I’ll be the only one to witness you begging when you come to your senses and realise just how badly you need me.”
“Wrong. I’ve got all I need in my top drawer. As you well know. And,” I add for good measure, “I’ve got a box of brand new batteries ready for tonight.”
“Now that is something I’d pay to see, Hellcat.”
The thought of him standing on the other side of my window watching me makes my insides turn to molten lava.
“Maybe I’ll leave my curtains open. Give you a good show.”
His fingers tighten on my throat in warning, but his eyes burn with lust at the suggestion.
The seconds tick by as we stare at each other, the tension crackling so loud I’m sure everyone around us must be able to hear it.
One second I’m convinced he’s about to slam his lips down on mine and make me forget my own goddamn name with his drugging kisses, and then the next, I’m stumbling back and colliding with the ropes as Xander drags Theo away from me and throws him into the opposite ones.
“Get the hell out of here,” he growls in his face.
I’m unable to rip my eyes from them as they square up to each other.
“Xan,” Gunner shouts from the sidelines.
Neither of them reacts to him. Hell, they don’t even move.
“You fucking care about her at all, then you’ll walk away right now.”
Theo’s jaw tics as he glares pure death at Xander.
But something in his words must break through, because after a couple more tense seconds, Theo’s eyes dart to mine.
“Yeah,” he says. “I won, so I get to choose what happens next.”
My heart pounds, assuming that he’s going to make some kind of asinine request. But after allowing his eyes to take a leisurely trip around my body, he takes a step back.
“I’ll see you soon, Hellcat. Don’t forget that promise you made me about the curtains.” He winks before ducking under the rope, swiping his discarded hoodie and t-shirt from beside the reception desk and blowing out of the gym like he didn’t just make the world shift beneath me.
* * *
I’m still cursing the prick out as I turn the shower off and grab a towel to wrap around my body, and another to wring the water out of my hair.
I should have beat him. I had him right there beneath me.
I thought— Ugh.
He was right, and I fucking hate it.
I thought I’d won too soon and I eased up.
Idiot, Emmie. Fucking idiot.
I pull on clean underwear and a fresh sports bra while rummaging in my locker for some deodorant.
