AllFreeNovel
Share Us
ASPEN
Iattend classes like normal while wondering if Quinton was really the one who set me up the other night or if it was someone else who wanted to get a rise out of me.
It could be anyone. The whole university hates me. But how else did he know where I was? He just took a walk into the girls’ gym shower? No, he has at least something to do with it.
I replay in my mind how we fought, like two feral animals with their lips curled, ready to take a bite out of each other.
He gave us both what we needed. I wasn’t even aware how much I craved his attention or touch until his fingers were on me, and he slipped inside my body. Each stroke told me how he felt, and his possessive grasp on me reminded me that even if he didn’t want to admit it. He still wanted me. What we did felt like heaven, even if I’m a little sore from his rough handling this morning.
Either way, I’m tired of letting everyone push me around and make me feel helpless. I will not stoop to their level and bully them, but I will fight back. I’ve been using Quinton as a shield, letting him protect me when I should have been able to protect myself.
I might never be a ninja like some students here who have been training how to use their body as a weapon since kindergarten, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get stronger.
The next morning, my alarm wakes me up at four-thirty AM. I pry my eyes open and shut the alarms off, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep.
I force myself to remember the way Matteo held onto me, how Xander grabbed me, and Nash pushed me on my knees. All those times, I felt weak. These memories make me get out of bed.
Putting my hair up in a ponytail, I quickly get dressed in some workout clothes and slip into my sneakers before heading out to the dorm gym. I really hope my idea of getting there so early that no one else will be there pans out.
The hallway is empty, which gives me hope that I’ll find the gym in the same state. I open the door slowly, sticking my head in to listen for any sign of other students. When I don’t hear anything, I open the door all the way and step inside. I can’t see the entire gym from the entrance, which is why I have a slight heart attack when I walk around the corner and find someone sitting on the weight bench.
Instead of jumping back three feet like I want to, I stand my ground and try to act like I’m supposed to be here. The guy is dressed in a dark gray sweatsuit, his hood pulled up as he looks down at his phone. It’s not until he glances up that I realize it’s Quinton.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, slightly out of breath. Sweat is dripping from his forehead, down his cheeks, and I can’t help but wonder how long he has been in here.
“I… I’m here to work out.”
“At five in the morning? Isn’t it a bit early for you?”
“You’re here,” I point out the obvious.
“Yeah, but I’m here every night.”
“Night? Like the whole night?”
“Sometimes.” He shrugs and shoves his phone into his pocket. Leaning back on the bench, he lifts the weighted bar from the rack and starts pumping it up and down. The large plates stacked on each side are so heavy that the iron bar is actually bending a little. Still, Quinton pushes them up and down like it’s nothing.
He does a few more in quick succession before he slows down a little, grunting slightly with each move. I wonder what it would look like without his sweater on.
Are his muscles bulging? Is he sweaty all over? I’m mesmerized by watching his strength and endurance, only snapping out of it when he places the bar back on the rack attached to the bench and sits up.
“Are you just gonna watch me the entire time?”
Shit.I just now realize I haven’t moved. I’ve been so occupied by ogling him like a hormonal teenager, I lost complete awareness of what I’m doing.
“Ah, no. Um, I’m here to work out.”
Quinton lifts one eyebrow and stares me down for another moment before my legs finally start moving. I spin around and scan the area for something to do. I settle on the treadmill on the other side of the gym. It’s one open space, so there is no place we wouldn’t see each other, but at least there is a good amount of distance between us.
I only run for a few minutes to warm up and get my heart rate going. When my breathing gets heavy and my legs ache, I slow down the treadmill and walk for another minute.
My eyes keep glancing across the room at Quinton, even though I try my best not to. When he gets up and wipes down the bench, I think he might leave, and disappointment creeps up my spine. Instantly, I curse myself for it. I still despise admitting that his presence makes me feel safe. Even after all he has done to me. In some ways, he is my security blanket, and I fucking hate it.
Instead of leaving, he walks over to the wall where bars are hanging above his head. He stretches out, grabs onto one of them, and starts doing pull-ups.
Not wanting to get caught watching him again, I get off the treadmill and walk over to the dumbbell area. I pick one that looks like it’s not too heavy and grab it from the rack.
I stand in front of the mirror, watching my form as I do curls on one side until my arm burns, then I switch to my other arm. When I can’t do any more with that side either, I try to think of another exercise with the dumbbells, but I come up empty, so I look around for something else to do.
