Page 30 of Gigi and the Gym Rats

I’ve started my stretching by the time he starts the class, and uh… was this a mistake? It’s as if the air is sucked out of the room. He strides to the front, claps his hands together and calls us to attention.

Is his scruff darker today? Is he growing a beard? Not sure how I feel about that, but it doesn’t matter much because my eyes are glued to his body. His T-shirt is thin, clinging to his muscular torso as he moves, and those arms…. Arm-porn is real.

“Class! Ready to sweat? Let’s get down and dirty.”

Good God and baby Jesus.My nipples.Ow.What’s going on with me?

Okay, I’m vulnerable to abs these days. And to biceps. And square jaws. It’s okay, it will pass. My ovulation date must be around the corner. All I can think of is rubbing myself all over him, climbing him like a tree, straddling him and taking his big?—

“Gigi!” He grins at me. “You made it. Let’s do this!”

Why does every word he utters today sound filthy in my mind? And why am I staring at him, saying nothing? He often greets us by name. Doesn’t mean anything.

“Hi.” I wiggle my fingers at him. “Hello.”

Some heads turn my way. I’m acting weird.

Crap.

And the class begins, like always, with warm-up and more stretching, and as I stand with my ass in the air and my face pressed to my knees, I catch a glimpse of a gorgeous studmuffin attempting the same in the row in front of mine.

Nice ass, I think, almost twisting my head off, like an owl, to take a better look. And look at those legs. The perfect amount of muscular. Love me some calves thick with muscle. Lightly furred, not too much. Nice, strong ankles.

Back to the foot fetish?

From the shoulders, I don’t think he’s an alpha, though you can’t always tell, especially when the person is bent over.

“And now lunge forward!” Zayne strides among us, controlling us.

That’s kind of hot. That controlling thing? In sex, I mean. Not generally in life. I don’t know him well enough to know how he is in normal life, I’ve only seen him in the gym and above me, rocking into me with his?—

“Lunge left! Arms stretched over your head, and go!” Zayne prowls like a lion, and I glance at him even as I hold the lunge, because this man has serious alpha muscles and when someone has serious alpha muscles that can knock girls unconscious, then he has no right to be so pretty, too.

“And… squats! Go!”

Okay, squatting takes more of my concentration. Also, my gaze is back on the nice ass guy.

“Good. Now relax and let me tell you what happened to me this morning. Take a breather.” Zayne walks to the front of the class, and I straighten and wipe sweat from my eyes. This is unusual. Zayne never talks about himself. “I was on my way to the gym, excited to torture all of you one more time…” Laughter breaks out. “And guess who I found outside the door.” He gestures and a young man joins him at the front of the class. “This is Zach, my son, and he’ll be joining our staff to teach kickboxing, if any of you are interested.”

Zach grins at us. Fairer than his dad, he shares the same killer smile and alpha physique, and…

Whoa, wait.That’s Zayne’sson?How old is Zayne anyway? I always thought he was thirty, tops. But his son has to be at least eighteen, so…

“I look forward to helping Dad torture you,” Zach says and gives a martial arts bow. “Sadism runs in the family.”

We laugh again, though I’m still trying to calculate Zayne’s age. But just then, the handsome beta of the glorious ass and perfect calves and ankles turns around and…

Wait, I know this guy.

“Hi!” I say, a smile stretching over my face. “Fancy meeting you again.”

He blinks at me, then his brows go up. “Right. From… the bar? The?—”

“Alpha Bet.” I’m grinning now. “You gave me back my shoes. And then you said you had to be somewhere.”

“Yeah.” He grins ruefully. “That was my mistake. I should have stayed.”

“Yeah, you should have,” I whisper, though a memory of kissing Casey slams into me and am I sorry as to how things turned out? Not so sure.

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