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Though, it could be the new resident.Astrid told me he was also from Norway, so it was possible he liked similar music. He certainly looked like he would, though I knew better than to judge someone based on appearances.
So far, Tyr seemed like a decent guy. He was courteous to Carrie when they met, and he gave her the space she needed to feel safe. He also had no issues taking direction from Astrid. Hell, he seemed to hang on every word she said, as if enamored with her.
I couldn’t blame him, nor would he be the first resident to become infatuated with her. But Astrid was always professional, and made sure they understood. Which was good, because otherwise, I might have some issues keeping her attention. Tyr certainly fit her type profile.
What got me about this guy, though, was his name. Tyr wasn’t a common name. And his missing hand had my imagination going crazy with thoughts about Norse mythology. I shook my head. It was a coincidence. Of course it was. Myth was myth.
I reached the gym and paused in the doorway. As I originally suspected, Astrid would be my gym companion this morning. She worked the heavy bag, swinging hard punches in time with the music. I leaned against the doorframe, watching her. My gaze drifted down the curve of her body, over her shapely hips, and down her strong legs, then back up to her firm ass.
My pulse thrummed under my skin, desires from earlier resurfacing. What I wouldn’t give to touch and taste her, even once. My cock hardened and strained against my shorts at the very thought.
“You know, it’s rude to linger in doorways,” Astrid puffed out. She didn’t even glance back at me.
I shook my head clear. I’d come down here to do just that. She was going to be a distraction from that attempt, but I had to try.Good fucking luck.“I thought you were going to practice archery today?”
“I was, and then I woke up and felt like hitting something instead.”
I ran my tongue over my teeth. “Do you want to talk about it?”
She shook her head and continued to beat on the heavy bag. I left her to it. If she wanted to talk, she would when she calmed down.
Most assumed Astrid was a pacifist. She always seemed to have control over her emotions even when she was enraged, to the point most only experienced her sassy mouth at her worst. And she tried to deescalate a situation before a fight could break out if she could.
But they didn’t know her—didn’t see her like I did. They didn’t see the other side of her she tried to suppress.
Astrid was aggressive. She had a deadly eye when letting loose an arrow, and didn’t hold back when we sparred. Few saw how vicious she could be. They never learned how close she’d been to expulsion in high school for putting a kid in a hospital defending me from his racist tirade.
They only saw the kind Astrid, the gentle Astrid, the always-smiling Astrid who hid her pain and aggression behind a wall, where she seemed to think it now belonged.
I wished she didn’t. I wasn’t a fan of violence, and liked it when something could be settled with conversation, but Astrid’s approach wasn’t healthy. She focused so much on her fear of dogs that she neglected the other side of her that needed healing. And as a result, she was imbalanced emotionally.
But I couldn’t help her find that balance if she didn’t want to let me in.
I started up the treadmill to do my warmup, however my focus continued to drift to Astrid. Not because she was distracting—okay, maybe a little of that—but mostly because of her form.
Exhaustion dragged at her, weighing down her arms and shoulders. She’d been at this for a while, and that usually meant she focused too much to give herself the necessary breaks to prevent injury.
Turning off the treadmill, I walked up behind Astrid and wrapped my hands around her forearms. She gasped and jerked, attempting to break free and throw me off balance as if I were some attacker. But she was too tired from her routine, and only managed to smack into my chest.
“Oof.Diego…”
I had to ignore the way her body molded into mine so perfectly. “Your form was poor. You need to take a break.”
“I’m fine,” she bit back.
I folded her arms to her chest, tucking her into me. My libido had cooled. This was too serious to have such thoughts. “Don’t lie to me.”
Astrid struggled against my hold, but I refused to let go. Any other day, I would have. I would see I overstepped and needed to back off. But something told me to hold on this time. Like it could hear her silent screams—see the anger still building up inside her with no realistic outlet to be released on.
“Diego, let go!”
My grip tightened. I pressed my lips against her ear. “It’s okay to be angry, Astrid. It’s okay.”
She struggled more. Her eyes clamped shut and bared her teeth, as if she were fighting herself more than me.
“It’s okay,” I murmured again.
Astrid made a strangled sound and then screamed. Something deep and agonizing as her fury burst through the dam she’d erected to keep it contained. I thought the ceiling lights flickered, but I was too focused on holding onto her to pay much attention.
