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She breaks our stare when her watch beeps. Glancing at it, she pushes a button, then lifts her head to face me. “You gonna turn me in?”
“No.” I hope she can’t see me swallow.
“Spot me, then?”
It’s an innocent question, something people ask each other in the gym all the time, though getting close to her while she’s half-dressed feels anything but innocent. Forcing my expression into the blank one I try to wear around her, I cross the room and stand behind the rack.
“Add ten on each side, will you?” She lays down and puts her hands on the bar.
“Only ten?” I bait her as I add the plates to the bar. It’s childish, but it’s the only defense I have to keep her at arms-length.
“I don’t usually have a spotter, not sure how high I can go.”
“Usually? You come here often?”
“Is that your best pickup line?” She un-racks the bar and starts her reps, making her tits squeeze together every time she pushes it up. I’m damn near too focused on those to register her question.
“Is that…? You know that’s not what I meant. How often do you sneak in here? How do you sneak in here?”
She racks the bar without any assistance and sits up, chest heaving. “As often as you guys go chasing women.”
“And you get in here how?” I cross my arms, giving her the sternest big-brother expression I can muster.
“My secret.”
“Not if you don’t want me to give you up.”
“You’d do that to me?” I swear her lip quivers.
“Tell me how you get in here.” I soften my tone.
She flops on the bench for another set, defiant. “Add ten more.”
I stay rooted in place.
“They never took my key after freshman year.” Her tone is indifferent, although I get the impression that’s forced. Someone as competitive as she is probably hates getting cut, even if the tryout itself speaks volumes about her talent.
I turn to get the weights, adding ten to each side. “The women’s weight room isn’t good enough for you?” I try to erase some of the tension in the room by steering us back toward our normal bickering.
“Have you seen it?” She grips the bar.
“No.”
“Next time you’re in the mood for some yoga, I’ll sneak you in.” She un-racks the bar and pumps out another set so handily I wonder how much she pushes herself without anyone around to see it.
“You come in here alone? It’s dangerous to lift like this without anyone around.”
Addy sits up to catch her breath. “I know my limits. Plus, weren’t you just about to do the same thing?”
“I’m still rehabbing. I can’t even think about lifting my max.” There’s a drop of sweat trickling down her chest, right between the center of her cleavage. I’ve never wanted anything more than to follow it with my finger.
Addy gives me a quick once-over, like she’s searching for the lie. Suddenly, she stands up. “Your turn.”
“You can’t spot me.”
“I can if you’re just rehabbing. Does this weight work for you or do you want more?” she asks innocently. The little brat is baiting me, and I’m gonna encourage it, because those plump lips are so hot when she uses them to taunt me, another one of the many reasons I try not to get too close.
Yanking off my shirt, I sit on the bench, pretending to be annoyed with this little exchange. “If you’re angling for a contest, don’t be fooled by my rehab weight. I can still out-bench you.”
“I’m not angling for a contest. I just needed to distract you so I could get to the leg press first.” She turns and bolts for the one machine she knows I need. Fuck, she’s cute. I lay down and pump out a few reps so she can’t see the grin on my face.
