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Liam laughs. “If was going to do anything just to impress people for the pictures, I’d do the workout with my shirt off. Don’t worry, this is what I normally lift. Just stand back and snap some shots while I do a couple reps.”
The thought of Liam without a shirt fills my mind’s eye for way longer than I should allow. But I’m able to refocus and take a couple steps back and find a good angle.
Liam grips the handles at the edge of the seat and starts pushing his legs up. The way his meaty, muscular thighs pop as he hefts the weight up and down makes me buzz all over. There’s no way I’m getting out of this with dry panties.
I’m mesmerized as I watch Liam exerting his force; it’s like watching a beautiful and powerful, precision-engineered machine operate.
His deep, broad chest expands against his tight t-shirt as he times his breathing with the extension of his legs. As he grips the side handles tight, his dense forearms swell, thick veins popping from them. His leg muscles are like a mountain range every time he fully extends his legs.
“I think I have enough pictures,” I say.
Liam nods, his breathing too strained to talk, and then does a couple more reps before lightly bringing his legs back down and settling the weight.
“Anything else for now?” he asks.
“No,” I say. “What are you doing after Psych class on Tuesday?”
His eyes spark as he gets up from the leg extension machine. “Why?” he asks with a grin. My stomach tumbles again as I realize those are the exact kind of words you’d use before asking someone on a date.
Of course, this isn’t a date. At all. Strictly a business meeting.
“I was thinking I’d get some photos of you studying. We could pair it with a summary of your classes this semester. Which ones you’re enjoying, which ones you’re struggling with, any big assignments you’re working hard on. That sort of thing.”
“You don’t have to rush to a class immediately after Psych anymore?” he asks, a teasing smirk on his puffy lips.
I shake my head. “Not anymore.” I was able to change my schedule, picking up another class that’s at a much more convenient time, and putting off the former class until next semester. But there’s no reason to share the details with Liam.
“Hm,” is his only response to that. I’m glad he doesn’t push me to elaborate. The less personal we get, the less we get to know each other, the better.
I’m glad that neither of us feels compelled to bring up what happened between us three months ago. Even though the memory clearly hangs in the air, a constant, unspoken source of tension and electricity.
“Yeah, after Psych on Tuesday works,” he says.
“Great, see you then.” I toss him a polite smile before turning around and walking back towards the door of the gym.
“Hey, Zoey,” he calls out just as I reach the door. His voice is different this time. Shorn of its cockiness and teasing tone, it sounds somehow more genuine.
“Yeah?” I ask, turning to him guardedly.
A couple beats of silence pass, Liam’s mouth open like he’s on the verge of saying something, his posture broadcasting a strange kind of hesitancy that seems unnatural from him.
Finally, he just shakes his head. “Nothing. Never mind. See you next week.”
“Yeah. See you then.”
Leaving the gym feels like stepping out of a sauna. I’m so overheated that I can feel trickles of sweat crawling down my back.
The cold air feels good once I’m finally out of the arena. It also feels good to put some distance between me and Liam as I walk home. Being around him feels dangerous. Unpredictable.
At least, when I see him in the library Tuesday, we’ll be surrounded by others. Hopefully, that should take some of the edge off.
My phone feels hot in my pocket as I think about the photos sitting in my camera roll.
I promise myself that I won’t look at them when I get home—and I try really hard to believe that promise.
10
LIAM
