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“I’m not going to be a slave my entire life,” I snap, breaking the silence, and Atlas looks my way again. “If that’s all you want me for, you may as well kill me now because I’m not going to be complacent.” My heart pounds against my chest almost painfully as I wait for him to respond. I’m fully expecting him to threaten tomakeme complacent, which is a very real possibility, but again, he says nothing.Fuck this.
I push the door open and climb out of the Escalade before storming into the house, and I don’t stop moving until I’m on the other side of my bedroom door. I collapse against it, my breathing shallow.
At this point, I’ve played all my cards. Whatever game this is, I have most definitely lost.
12
The following morning, I wake with a weight on my chest that has me feeling anxious and cagey. Going from working out daily to not working out in almost a week has taken a toll on me physically and mentally. I need to move, to exert some energy.
I tie my hair up and change into a matching black sports bra and high-waisted legging set before shoving my feet into my running shoes and grabbing my phone off the charger on the table beside the bed.
It’s barely after seven, so I grab a heavy gray sweater from the closet, tugging it on over my head, then search my book bag until I find my wireless headphones.
After sticking them in my ears, I pocket my phone and jog downstairs to leave for a run around the neighborhood. If I’m lucky, none of the guys will be awake yet, or will have already left for work.
No such luck.
Gabriel is sitting at the kitchen counter, sipping an espresso while reading from his tablet.
My eyes quickly shift to the window… where it’s pouring rain outside. When the hell did that start? The forecast didn’t call for rain.
“Morning,” I say in a small voice as I open the fridge and grab a bottle of water.
“Morning,” he echoes softly. “Were you planning to go for a run?”
I close the fridge and nod, uncapping the bottle. “It’s just rain.”
“It’s also freezing out.” He sets his tablet on the counter. “Why don’t you check out the gym here instead?”
I freeze with the water bottle halfway to my lips. “You guys have a gym? Why is this the first I’m hearing of it?”
“You didn’t ask,” he offers.
I frown at that. “Okay. Where is it?”
“It’s above the garage.” He nods toward the door we came in when I first arrived last week. “There’s a door to the stairwell that leads up to it.”
My heart races with excitement. If I’d known they had workout equipment, I would’ve been using it every day since I got here. I screw the lid back on my water bottle and make my way toward the garage. Pausing, I turn back toward the kitchen. “Thanks, Gabriel. And, um, about last night… I-I’m sorry.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. The apology is genuine, but it tastes sour on my tongue and I’m not sure why.
He nods, smiling a little before picking his tablet back up.
A bit of the weight on my chest over last night eases as I make my way toward the garage. I jog up the stairs after finding the door easily enough and stop dead at the top of the landing when my eyes land on a bare-chested Atlas. My mouth goes dry, and the water bottle almost slips out of my hand as I openly gawk at him.
He either hasn’t noticed me yet—doubtful—or he’s ignoring me and choosing to focus on the massive amount of weight he’s benching. It has to be at least two hundred pounds, which leads my mind to wander… He could liftme.Parts of me like the thought of that way too much.
Atlas returns the barbell to the rack and sits up. “Are you planning to stand there and watch me the entire time?” He swings his leg over the bench and looks at me. His hair is falling into his face, the ends damp with sweat. He pushes it back and stands, arching a brow at me as he closes the distance between us.
It takes far more effort than I care to admit to pull my gaze from his chiseled stomach and meet his silver gaze. “I…” I clear my throat and try again. “I was going to go for a run, but it’s raining and cold.”
He nods. “Cardio machines are back there.” He jerks his thumb behind him, and for the first time since I stepped into the room, I take a look around.
For a home gym, the space is impressive. It doesn’t surprise me at this point, and in this case, I’m practically giddy over how fancy it is. The wall across the room is made of windows where the different cardio machines are lined up, looking out to the side of the property that’s filled with trees. There’s a treadmill, an elliptical, and one of those ridiculously expensive spin bikes with the giant screen attached.
I walk around a bit, the padded floor soft under my running shoes. The other walls are a muted gray, and track lighting runs along the ceiling. The room is cold, which is preferable when working up a sweat. I pass by a mini-fridge against the wall next to the bench press Atlas was using and set my water bottle on it as I continue around the room. It’s a simple layout: cardio machines and stretching mats at one end and weight racks and benches at the other. There’s plenty of open space in the center of the room and mirrors on the wall adjacent to the door I came in through.
“What do you usually do?”
I jump at the sound of Atlas’s voice so close to my ear and whip around to face him, taking a healthy step back before looking up at him. “Cardio to warm up,” I tell him, “and then weight lifting until I can barely walk or lift my arms.”
