Page 82 of Facing Off
“No, you won’t.” His words are gentle but infused with steel.
“T-Too bad, I wasn’t done.”
Turning to face the mirrored wall, I lift a trembling leg. Before I can execute the next move, he catches and holds my ankle.
“I’ll find another gym to use,” I threaten breathlessly.
“Anywhere you go, I’ll follow you.”
The matter-of-fact way he promises that makes my breath hitch.
Hughes hears it and maybe interprets it as something else. His brow wrinkles. He releases my ankle and rakes his hand through his hair.
I can’t help but avert my gaze. Maybe because in this case, deep down, I know I’m being the unreasonable one. It’s sweet how genuinely concerned he is, simply wanting me to rest, that I shouldn’t be arguing with him like this.
His eyes search mine carefully in our reflection. “Let’ssettle this another way,” he says slowly like he’s come up with something.
I frown. “What way?”
“A bet,” he murmurs. “If I can make you laugh, then you have to listen and rest. If I can’t, I’ll walk away.”
Make me laugh? What makes Hughes think he can do that? I don’t laugh. Not openly in front of others. I haven’t been that person in forever.
My foot taps on the floor. I’m torn between curiosity and rationalizing whether leaving is the best way to keep my defenses intact. In the end, curiosity and a sense of competitiveness win out. “Fine. Let’s do this.”
Hughes procures a bench. I’m told to sit on it. And then he goes and roots around in the corner. An electrolyte drink is brought back, along with a handful of protein bars in different flavors. Next, Hughes turns the overhead fans on. A gentle breeze kisses my face.
At my puzzled expression, he winks. “Laughing starts with relaxation. Now get ready to lose.”
“Not going to happen, Hughes.”
“It is.” He points to the stash of protein bars. “Eat.”
The peanut butter oneiscalling my name. I tear open the wrapper and bite into it. I finish the bar pretty quickly. Guess I haven’t eaten for a while. Before I can decide whether I want another one, Hughes tears open the wrapper of another and holds it out.
Shrugging, I take it. Finish it. He hands me the electrolyte drink next. Polishing off a quarter of it, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “So, is the show ever starting or what?”
“This is going to be a performance you won’t ever forget, darling.”
Something unwinds inside me, making all my sore limbs relax. It’s back to our normal bantering, but for somereason that makes my mind hum with contentment. I’m not thinking about anything else.
I exaggerate a yawn as if he bores me, even though he could never.
Hughes’ dimple comes out. “Adrian’s gym, lights down by fifty percent.”
The room is hooked up to smart technology, linked to his voice commands. Brightness dims, shadows lengthen. It softens everything, including the lines of his powerful body. Then this melodic music starts?
I feel my eyes go big.
Wait,what’shappening?
Deft fingers start to undo the buttons of his shirt.
My mouth drops open.
Why’s he taking his clothes off? Did I just agree to get a strip show from Adrian Hughes?!
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