Page 29 of The Girlfriend Goal
"Coach gave the women's teams access for late-night training." She dropped from the bar, grabbing her water bottle. "I'll leave."
"Why?"
"Because this is weird. We're not friends. We don't hang out outside of study sessions. We certainly don't work out together."
"We could." I set down my gym bag, committing to this terrible idea. "Unless you're scared you can't keep up."
"I could work you into the ground."
"Prove it."
Her eyes flashed with that competitive fire I'd come to recognize. "You're on. What's the stakes?"
"Winner picks the community center activity next week."
"Deal." She grabbed a pair of dumbbells. "Hope the kids like interpretive dance, because that's what you'll be teaching when I destroy you."
"Big talk from someone who probably skips leg day."
"I played ninety minutes against State last weekend. My legs are fine." She demonstrated with a perfect squat that made my mouth go dry. "Question is whether hockey boys can handle real cardio."
"Hockey is literally all cardio."
"On ice and with breaks every two minutes. Real athletes don't need timeouts."
"Real athletes?" I grabbed my own weights, matching her setup. "Sweetheart, I've been an athlete since I could walk."
"Don't call me sweetheart," she said.
"Would you prefer Fox? Captain? Your Majesty?"
"I'd prefer you shut up and lift."
We started with a basic circuit—squats, lunges, deadlifts. What began as competitive quickly became something else as we fell into rhythm, spotting each other without discussion, adding weight when the other wasn't struggling enough.
"Your form's off," she said during my second set of deadlifts. "You're rounding your back." She moved behind me, hands hovering near my lower back. "May I?"
I nodded, not trusting my voice as her fingers pressed against my spine, guiding it into proper position. Her touch was clinical, professional, but my cock didn't get the memo as it twitched.
"There. Feel the difference?"
"Yeah." My voice came out rougher than intended. "Thanks."
We moved to upper body, and I returned the favor during her shoulder presses, standing close enough to catch her if needed. Close enough to notice she smelled like vanilla under the gym sweat. Close enough to see the determination in her jaw as she pushed through the burn.
"Time for core," she announced after we'd exhausted every major muscle group. "Unless you're tired?"
"I could do this all night."
"Famous last words." She grabbed a mat, setting up for planks. "Three minutes. No breaks."
By minute two, my entire body shook with effort. Beside me, Rachel looked carved from stone, her breathing steady where mine had gone ragged.
"Struggling?" she asked without breaking form. "Your hip is dropping." She shifted, somehow managing to tap my hip while maintaining her own perfect plank. "There. Better."
"Show off."
"You challenged me, remember?"
