Page 14 of Shut Up and Jingle Me
I hold back a laugh at his tone, flex just a little harder, not looking at Max but feeling his gaze on me anyway. “Don’t be jealous,” I say, my voice light and sing-song. “Plenty of Christmas cheer to go around.”
Max steps in, close enough that the heat from his arm brushes mine. “You’re bending your wrist—keep it straight.” His hands hover just beneath mine, ready to catch the weight if I falter.
Luke lets out a low whistle. “Now that’s some attentive coaching.” He grins at me, then adds, “Nice form, Santa. Exactly like that, baby. Just like you stroke yourself.”
I bite back a laugh at his words, while Max glowers over at him.
“Luke,” Max says slowly, the warning in his voice clear.
“What?” Luke spreads his hands in mock innocence. He set down his light dumbbells at some point, I must have been distracted. “I’m just appreciating the technique. You should be proud—Santa’s killing it.”
I tilt my head toward Luke, flashing him a grin. “Always nice to be appreciated.”
Max’s fingers curl slightly under my wrists as he steadies them, the contact warm and possessive. “Eyes forward,” he murmurs, low enough that only I hear it.
Luke drops to the bench and leans his elbows on his knees, watching us as though it’s his favorite new reality show. “See, Calder? That’s how you keep the wrists straightandmake it entertaining.”
Max doesn’t take the bait, but the muscle in his jaw jumps. He adjusts my form again, unnecessary, slow, and I can’t help but stare up at him.
I smile sweetly. “I told you, Calder. Plenty of Christmas cheer to go around.”
Luke smirks. “Guess you’re just gonna have to share, Calder. Because I want some of that Christmas cheer.”
Max’s hands finally leave my wrists, only to press lightly at my elbows, guiding me through the last rep as if Luke doesn’t exist. But his jaw clenches, and the sound he makes in responseisn’t verbal…more similar to a quiet growl that thrums right through me.
Luke hears it, too. His grin widens, and he leans forward on his elbows, loving every second of the show we’re putting on. “Easy, Calder. You’re starting to look as if you want to keep Santa all to yourself.”
Max doesn’t respond right away, just adjusts my form with slow, deliberate precision, his fingers lingering long enough to make my pulse kick. I slide my gaze over to Luke, and he winks at me.
“Eyes forward,” Max repeats. “If you’re not training, Luke, you can leave.”
Luke leans back on the bench, one arm draped over the bar behind him, settling in. “Oh, I’m not going anywhere. Eli needs me. So, while youtrainhim, I’ll have to settle for being the audience. For now.”
Max steps just enough to the side that his shoulder blocks part of Luke’s view of me. The move is subtle, but it’s pure territory-claiming. “Find another show,” he says, voice calm but edged.
Luke’s smirk only deepens, eyes flicking from me to Max, cataloging every reaction. “Why would I, when this one’s so fun to watch?”
SIX
MAX
My annoyance risesat the way Luke and Eli seem to talk without speaking. The brief look between them screams at how close they are. Jealousy is an ugly beast because it came roaring to life the second I watched Luke in the mirrors straddling Eli to spot him.
It was completely unnecessary and the reason I came over and took over in the first place. But I’m starting to think I was played. Because Luke just drifted away after a few minutes of ignoring him. And now he’s chatting with one of the other guys on the team across the room. Still, the image of him leaning over Eli earlier keeps looping in my head.
The way Eli smiled at him. The way he laughed like Luke had said something worth laughing at. I hate that it stuck. I want to be the reason for Eli’s smiles, not that he’s stingy with them, he gives them out like he’s giving candy to children.
I bring myself back to now, standing behind Eli at the dumbbells. My hands hover close, ready to catch the weight if his grip slips, but I’m too aware of the way his shoulders shift and tighten under the load. Too aware of him and the way he still smells of peppermint.
Eli racks the dumbbells, shaking out his arms, then glances up at me with that same grin, unguarded and warm, as if I’m the one who put it there.
“You always look this serious,” he says, “or am I just special?”
The words shouldn’t get under my skin, but they do…burrowing in, sparking that wild urge to shut him up with my mouth. To pull him closer, taste his smile, and make sure the only person he looks at with those blue eyes is me. I want to bottle his sunshine.
I clamp down on the thought, reaching for the next set of weights as though nothing’s wrong. I’m not thinking that. I’m not.
I hand him the next set, heavier this time, and step in closer than I need to. Close enough that I catch his scent again.
