Page 7 of The Game

I drop my bag with a thud. The sound echoes throughout the room. I glance around to see if she’s paying any attention, but her back is to the gym. Son of a bitch. I’m acting like a pouting five-year-old.

Grabbing my headphones, I jam them into my ears and slide my cellphone into the pocket of my t-shirt. After I lower down into the machine, I close my eyes. The first beat of the classic rock music calms my nerves, and I take a deep breath.

Working out pissed off might motivate the defensive and offensive lines, but my movements must be precise. If I tweak anything, I could be out for weeks. I let the melody push all thoughts away. It’s me and my preparation.

Forty-five minutes later, I’m drenched in sweat, and my muscles are burning from exertion. I let go of the arm weights, and they snap into place with a loud clank. For several seconds, I inhale deeply, trying to regain my bearings.

When my heart rate returns to normal, I open my eyes. The rest of the guys should be showing up any minute. I turn and almost fall off the bench. Dani is propped against the machine next to me.

“Holy shit. You scared the crap out of me.”

“God, I’m so sorry.” Flush settles over her cheeks, and she shoves off the equipment. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was only waiting until you got done. I know repetition and not being interrupted is essential to an effective workout.”

My heart rate slows as the shock of seeing her wears off. “Thanks. It is.” I frown. I don’t want to be rude and ask why she’s hanging out next to me, but I’m not sure what to say that doesn’t have me sounding like a jerk.

“Um…Do you mind if I tell you something?”

My stomach flops and my mouth dries. If it’s – ‘I broke up with my girlfriend last night because I realized I’m straight and want to jump your bones’ – I’m all for it. “Sure.”

She clears her throat. “When you go back, you need to hold your shoulders tighter to the back of the machine.” She steps forward and places her hand on my chest. “Like this.”

“Okay.” I straighten my back and follow her movements. They should put my face in the dictionary under glutton for punishment.

Her fingers are hot against my shirt, causing my pulse to thunder at the base of my neck. This is what I deserve for being celibate for months. Shit. Almost two years.

Her plump lips are right beside mine. The sweet bow and curve of her mouth has me wanting to yank her into my lap and thrust my tongue deep inside her depths. I suck in a breath and shake my head to jog the stupid thoughts loose in my brain.

I shift my hips and will my cock to think about baseball. Damn, she smells like cookies and some type of flower. Shit. This sucks.

“Then, when you pull inward, keep your elbows a tad bit higher.” Her dainty fingers hold my elbows. “You’re letting them swing a little bit. Too low and you’ll pull a muscle, and too high, and you won’t get the full benefit of the weights.”

“Thanks.” As her fingertips trail along the length of my muscles, I fight the urge to jump up and run to the bathroom.

The tip of her ponytail swings to the side and brushes against my neck as she moves backward. Every nerve in my body zings. God, I’ve got to get laid. “Thanks.” I jump up and put a couple of feet between us.

“And with your legs.” She reaches out like she’s going to grasp my thighs.

Holy fuck. If she touches me or looks too closely, she’s going to get an enormous surprise.

The door swings open and crashes against the wall. “Hey, guys.” Tony grins and marches across the gym in our direction.

Thank fuck. “Hey, Tony.” I wave at him like a deranged lunatic. Saved by my right-hand man.

“Hi.” She flushes and nods in his direction.

“You two go on. Ignore I’m here.” He drops his bag down with a thump.

When he whistles as he sits down on the weight bench, I roll my eyes. “Good night?”

“Yep.” He waggles his eyebrows and grins. “Put the tantra chair to good use last night after Marissa went to sleep.” Then, he lowers back, lays his spine against the bench, and places his hands on the bar.

“Tantra chair?” Dani’s nose wrinkles as she studies Tony.

“Oh, fuck.” His fingers fall from the bar, and he raises up with his hand clutching his chest. “You’ve never heard of a tantra chair?”

“No. Should I have?” Her brows are arched as if she’s trying to figure out what he could possibly be talking about.

“Tony, stop.” I glare at him. I don’t want to talk about Dani’s sex life or his great ideas for Dani and Ashley’s sex life. I’m the only one not getting any here. I bite the inside of my bottom lip and taste the copper flavor of blood as I split the sensitive flesh of my mouth.

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