Page 5 of Keep Your Guard Up
I sighed, ready to get this over and done with. There was no way whoever this guy was would last—they never did. There was a reason people came here for fight camps—becausecampsended and they could get out of this town that was in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere.
I came around the corner to the open mat space to see the man of the hour. His muscly figure cast a tall shadow on the concrete floors as JJ squeezed him in a tight hug. His wavy, blond hair reached a few inches past his shoulders and was pushed off his face by a pair of sleek black sunglasses. The midmorning sunlight glistened on some of the strands, making his skin look even more the rich olive shade it was. Al was smiling ear toear. Standing from the front desk chair, he opened his arms and embraced the god-like man in front of me.
My mouth fell open, unable to hide the irritation and shock that had just slapped me in the face.
It was him. The asshole from Lozza’s.
“Chance, my boy! How was your trip? Hope the roads were good to ya’,” Al said.
“Roads are always easy when you’ve got a great destination.” A charming smile warmed his face as he and Al pulled apart. For an old man, Al was still pretty tall at six feet, but this guy had probably two or three inches on him. And definitely atruckloadmore muscle.
“That’s the way!” Allen replied. “Chance this is Marilyn, part-owner of the gym.”
Right before my very eyes, my seventy-year-old grandmother swooned over this man.
His straight teeth parted through his full lips into a heartbreaking smile as he bent down a little to address Nan.
Did he have to be so good looking? What’s with the chivalry too?
There had certainly been no chivalry, no offering of hands or help when I’d run into him with a dozen pizzas on Friday night.
“Pleasure to meet you, Marilyn. I’ve heard so much about you,” he told her gently.
Kiss ass.
A sliver of his long hair fell over one of his high cheekbones. A stark contrast to the tight-fitted black athletic shirt he was wearing above a set of navy blue jeans that had been worn in to the shapely figure of the obviously muscular legs he carried beneath them. And thatass? Could men really have a good ass? Apparently so.
I knew my grandmother had noticed too.
“Oh, dear, the pleasure is all mine!” she flirted.
I couldn’t hold back a scoff, which landed his blue eyes on me.
Shit … look at that blue.
Time somehow seemed to pause for a second, just a moment, when his stare locked onto mine. I was trapped in that gaze, the same vibrant colour of forget-me-nots. Ironic, since I could guarantee I would never forget the colour of those eyes. The lock I had on my jaw loosened, and his lips tilted up slightly. A rush of heat tingled in my chest before spreading up to my face.
Fuck, he noticed me staring.
“We meet again, Sunkist.” He smirked an obnoxiously attractive smirk that made me wish I had that Sunkist bottle to pour on him all over again.
“You two have met?” Nan asked.
“No,” I said.
“Yes,” Chance said at the same time.
“Chance, this is Mari,” Al stated, appearing at Nan’s side. “Pretty much full owner of the gym.”
Nan’s eyes were darting between the both of us, and Al scratched his neck nervously. I knew why, of course. I wasn’t exactly easy to impress, or all sunshine-and-rainbows towards the prospects making attempts to fill Al’s shoes. They’d all come in, reciting the same things, until they read the letter.
“Elijah Trevino is my hero.”
“I can’t wait to continue his legacy here.”
“This is an opportunity of a lifetime.”
What a load of—
