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He stalks toward me in nothing but gym shorts and a men's tank top. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in jeans before, let alone something this relaxed. He’s more the type to look ready for a business meeting at any given time. Even at the party, he wore black dress pants and a button-up. The only relaxed part of his look was his rolled-up sleeves.
I can’t pull my eyes away, even when he looks over and catches me shamelessly ogling him.
Every inch of his visible skin is covered in tattoos. I knew he had some; it’s impossible not to. You can see them on his hands and neck peaking out no matter what he wears, not to mention the ones on his head that peak through his shaved sides. But I would have never guessed he had so many. My eyes trace over his legs and up his body. His shorts are tighter on his legs, looking like they were molded around the muscles that are very clearly on display. His tank top is loose, but the arm holes hang low, giving a clear view of his sides and part of his chest as he moves.
This man isn’t just fit. He's chiseled, and his tattoos make him look much more like a walking piece of art than a man.
As he reaches the mat I’m on, he walks past me without a word, looking down at me as he goes. I feel like his eyes burn a hole in me as he looks me over, much like I am him. I can't stop myself from continuing my visual exploration of his body. Much like the rest of him, his back is completely covered in art that wraps around his well-defined muscles. No wonder girls are ready to fight for him. His ass alone is mouth-watering.
I shake myself from that line of thought and continue stretching, carefully keeping my eyes down so I don’t have to worry about drooling over him. Which I’m not afraid to admit is a very real possibility.
I hear him sink onto a mat not far from me and assume he’s also stretching. As time ticks by, more and more people join us, most of them I have never seen before, but just as the bell rings, I hear the door on the far side of the gym close as someone else leaves the locker room. I hear them before I see them, and I can’t stop myself from rolling my eyes.
Amanda’s annoying voice carries across the gym as she talks to someone, her voice far too loud as everyone in the room gets to hear just how good she thinks Roderick looks. As I stand, I catch a glimpse of Mai with her as she nods her agreement far too enthusiastically. Both of them are wearing the tiniest shorts I have ever seen with matching sports bras. Amanda’s is all pink, and Mai's is purple. They look ridiculous, and I seriously wonder if one wrong move won't have a boob popping out or, worse, a pussy lip.
They go to the bags closest to Roderick and stand there watching him like they are about to jump him. I know the disgust is clear on my face. I don’t even try to hide it, and I make a mental note not to ogle him anymore. No matter how good he looks, I don’t want to be one of those girls.
Roderick stands at the front of the mats and calls attention. Any conversations around me die down instantly, and I realize why Zander didn’t mention the shared class. Roderick isn’t in this class. He teaches it. I’m going to strangle him. His little devil makes so much sense now.
Roderick goes through the basics of a few kicks and demonstrates them for everyone on his bag. I watch the class more than him because, first of all, it's safer, and second, I know all of these moves.
My eyes go from person to person around me. There are nine other people in the class besides myself. They all watch Roderick, nobody even realizing I’m watching them. Six people, both men, and women alike, watch him with much more than just the desire to learn, and I wonder if they took this class for the class or just for him. I’m almost positive he’s why Amanda and Mai are here. They don’t appear to have an ounce of muscle on them, and their long fake nails don’t look great for combat unless you plan to weaponize them, but I doubt that’s why they have them.
Not to mention I would like to think that if Amanda knew anything about fighting, she would have tried harder the night of the party, but with how easily she folded, I feel confident saying this class is all for her eyes.
“Jade.” Roderick calls me, and I turn my attention to him where he stands, giving me a stern look.
“Did you take this class to learn or to people-watch?” He asks me, and I narrow my eyes at him. He knows my skills, so why call on me like this?
“I was waiting for you to get to something worth listening to.” I tell him in a sweet voice that drips with sarcasm. I didn’t intend to make a scene, but for some reason, his calling me out like this irritated me, and I’m not one to pull punches, especially not with them.
His face gives nothing away. Roderick is great at hiding his emotions, but his eyes are pretty easy to read after spending time around them, and I can see my words' affected him.
“Is that so?” He questions, and I nod. Everyone around us is watching our little back-and-forth now.
“Well, if that's the case, you won't mind coming up here and demonstrating some basic kicks for us, right?” He asks, and I can see the smile in his eyes even though nothing about his face looks happy.
I’m confused, I’ll be the first to admit it, but I’m also not one to back down from a challenge. So I stand up straighter and lift my chin before working my way through the bags and up to the front with him. When I reach him, he only gestures to the bag without telling me what it is I should be demonstrating.
I turn to face the bag, take a deep breath to center myself, and drop into my stance. I start with a front kick before moving to a side kick and then a roundhouse kick, all back to back with hard hits and precision.
“Very good form and not bad strength for someone your size. I bet your kicks could be lethal with a bit more weight training and a better nutrition plan. Meet me after class to talk, and we will see what we can do.” He says in way of dismissal, and I head back to my spot. A few people look at me with shock clear on their faces or even wonder, but Amanda and Mai both have matching looks of anger. Their faces puckered up like they just ate a lemon, and I have to fight really hard to keep from laughing at them.
The rest of the class is simple. Everyone works through those three basic kicks, and since I know them, I spend my time working on more complex things on my own. Roderick mostly ignores me as he walks around correcting people's forms, but every once in a while, he will call out praise for me, letting me know he’s paying attention.
I tell myself my cheeks are heated from the strain of the workout and not from his praise, but I know it’s a lie. I’m barely working up a sweat, but I hope others at least think that's what it is. I don’t need any more rumors about the Vengeance guys and me,-- ew, I still hate that name.
Roderick works with each person, and I quickly see what a hard ass he is as a teacher. He expects perfection, and on the third time he of him correcting Amanda’s stance, she throws me a look that lets me know her earlier anger wasn’t just from my skills but from his reaction to it.
She’s jealous.
I wink at her before returning to my bag and enjoying seeing her seethe for a moment. I doubt half of these people will last the whole semester in this class, but I know for sure I will.
When Roderick dismisses the class, I grab a drink at the fountain and head over to him, where he once again stands in front of all the bags. Amanda and Mai slowly collect their water bottles, making sure to bend over in a way that has their ass facing him and on full display.
Gross.
Roderick doesn't even bat an eye in their direction, and Amanda actually pouts when she stands up again, only to see he isn’t even looking her way. I chuckle at them as I walk past because they deserve to feel stupid, trying so hard to get attention when he isn’t interested. Not to mention I remember her pushing herself on both him and Zander at the party.
