Page 31 of Delicate Storm

Tossing my phone into my gym bag, I throw it over my shoulder and slam the door as I leave, my anger building the longer I’m alone with my thoughts, biting my knuckles to stop myself from screaming.

If she messes this up… If he doesn’t come home over the fucking moon about his day, I’m going to… I’m going to…Fuck. What can I even do? As long as she’s making an effort, it will be impossible to keep her away from him.

I’m fuming as I enter the gym and pumped to work out my frustrations, but come to a halt as I reach the threshold.

I’m not alone.

Paige is here. Again. And the first thing I see is her ass in the air as she bends over, her hand and knee on the bench beside her, while she lifts a dumbbell, working her triceps. If she heard me come in, she doesn’t acknowledge it, continuing to pant as she finishes her set.

I watch her like a stalker, picturing my hands on her waist as she gasps, imagining what it would be like to work her into a sweat. To let her distract me like she’s always trying to do.

I internally groan.

It’s safe to say I haveneverwanted to fuck someone so much in my life. Not even my ex.

And I don’t think I can hold back any longer.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Paige

My arms burn as I finish my push-ups, and when I stand, my gaze flits to the door, just like it has for the last few days, waiting. Hoping that my Window-Seat Guy will suddenly appear so I’m not doing this alone. Again.

But of course, he doesn’t.

I’d wager he’s avoiding it—me—on purpose.

If I wasn’t so self-assured, I’d probably get a complex. It’s obviously my fault.

I make him uncomfortable. I know that.

It’s written on his face every time we run into each other. But I’m not convinced that’s a bad thing. I look at it like pushing him out of his comfort zone, and we all need a little of that sometimes.

At least, I do.

Every time I think about what I said at the gym last week, I can’t help but laugh.I mentioned his cock.We’re barely even friends, and yet, I felt comfortable enough to go there. Becausehis grumpy ass needed to hear it. He’s wound so tight all the time that someone needs to help ease the tension.

And I love pushing his buttons. I can’t even explain the joy it brings to my life, watching his nostrils flare or his eyes widen. I love to see his lips twitch like he wants to smile but refuses to admit something or someone makes him happy.

I’m not stupid; I’m aware that he’s dragging around some heavy baggage. That much is clear. But a little teasing never hurt anyone.

And I was clearly joking. I hadn’t really looked at his pants to see if there was a bulge. But after the words left my mouth, I wanted to.

I still want to.

That man… God, every time I see him, I want to mount him like a horse. There’s something about his manner that has me desperate to attract him. And it’s not only because it’s been too long since a man last touched me and he’s gorgeous. It’s more than that.

Only I can’t explain it.

Ignoring my disappointment at the empty room, I move on to my next set, and by the time I’m working my triceps, I’m exhausted.

I don’t usually push myself this much, but I had the crazy idea to sign up for a charity run early next year. And now I’m suffering the consequences.

But it was time to make a change. To try something new. To drink that drink I’ve never tasted, compete in that event I’ve never entered, fuck that guy I’ve never fucked…

I chuckle to myself. That one isn’t new, but Window-Seat Guy is definitely not the polished businessman I usually go for. And for some reason I have my sights set on him.

The door buzzes while I’m still grinning and my smile drops so fast that a nervous energy takes over me.

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