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“I never said this was going to be easy.”
Clearly not. The next hour consists of suicide drills, burpees, agility skills, push ups, one-on-one battles where he dispatches me with little to no effort, and about a dozen other exercises.
I’m drained but my heart’s pumping and adrenaline is flying through me. As painful as this is, I love it. It makes me feel strong.
Like I can do anything.
When we’re done, I drop to the ground, exhausted.
“What are you doing?” Rhys asks, standing over me, “You’re not finished.”
“What?”
“Fifteen bleacher runs, then you’re done.”
“You’re joking.” I say, but pick myself up and stand as I speak.
“We’re working on power, stamina, and agility, all three of which require strong legs. I’d get comfortable with the idea of bleacher runs if I were you.”
“I already have strong legs.” I say with a small pout, but only because my legs feel like they might simply fall off if I try to move at a pace faster than .5 miles per hour right now.
“I’m fucking aware.” He says, tension clear in his voice. “I’ve stared at them, imagining them wrapped around my face while I ate you out more times than I can count.” He tells me as I blush. “But they’re not strong enough.”
“You said you wouldn’t flirt.” I say, my tone accusatory.
“I said I’d keep it to a minimum. Plus, I wasn’t flirting.”
“What do you call it then?”
“What do I call what?”
“What you just said, Mackley.” I say, irritation bleeding into my voice.
“I can’t remember what I said. Can you remind me?” He says, with a look that’s both taunting and lustful.
Another challenge from him.
I swallow thickly, trying to hide the reaction before I answer him. Finally, I decide to just blurt it out.
“What do you call basically telling me you want me to sit on your face?”
His groan is pained and so low in his throat it rumbles through his chest and into the air around us.
“The truth.” He grunts.
“Lie then.”
“There’s only room for one liar in this relationship.”
“Friendship. If that.”
“Soon-to-be situationship.” He counters.
We’d progressively gotten closer as we volleyed back and forth bantering with each other, until I realize only a few inches separate us.
There’s a tension between us that’s electric, one that brings energy back into my legs and robs them of all function at the same time.
“Run for the bleachers before I spread you out on one of them and have you for breakfast.” He threatens me, his tone edging with violence.
