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Or a handsome face.
Okay, back on track. Let’s do this.
Chucking my plastic cup in the trash, I grab two small dumbbells and go to stand beside him. I squat and lift them to my sides, focusing on the wall in front of me and letting out my breath.
The dumbbells I chose are quite heavy, but nothing to do about it now. I’m here, and am not leaving until he notices me.
That takes what feels like years. He’s really into his exercise and the music he’s listening to, and I find myself distracted again by his bulging biceps and broad shoulders.
Suddenly he sees me. I know because his movements falter and he jerks sideways, staring at me with wide eyes.
“Brylee? What are you doing?”
“Dumbbells.” I lift them so hard I almost punch him in the face.
Oops.
He’s still staring at me.
“Don’t stop on my account.” I lift the dumbbells again. God, getting this guy is hard work. “I didn’t even notice you were here. I just happened to stand beside you.”
I glance his way and catch a grin lifting one corner of his mouth. Damn, he’s sexy.
He huffs out a laugh. “You just happened.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You’re ignoring me.”
“Damn right.”
He bites his lower lip, as if to keep from laughing out loud, and I wonder if he’d bite mine like that if he kissed me.
“Hey, careful with that—” He gasps and stumbles backward, folding over my hand.
Oh man. I really did manage to hit him with the dumbbell. Oopsie.
“Sorry!” I drop both dumbbells to the floor to rush to his aid, and he dances away from them, hissing.
“You’re a public hazard, woman.”
“I do what I can. Are you hurt?”
He steps away from my touch. “My manly pride, only. You should be more careful with those things.”
“My hands?” I snatch them back.
“The weights.”
Oh.
“So you don’t mind my hands on you?” I ask.
His eyes narrow.
Score for Brylee. I barely resist a fistpump.
Then his expression blanks.
