DEAN

I’ve always been a night owl. Years of late night study sessions at law school will do that to you. I only need about five hours sleep and prefer to do laps late at night when I have the pool all to myself.

It’s past midnight. And at this hour, I usually have not only the pool empty but the whole gym. So I’m surprised to hear someone pounding away on the treadmill as I head to the locker room. I peek through the window in the door, curious as to which of my neighbors is up at this hour, and see a solitary figure running.

I can’t hold back the smile that spreads across my face. This really is my night.

Tonight, I finally closed the deal with Lash Equity, and now I’ve run into the very woman who’s been haunting my dreams. It’s been almost a week since I ran into Brenna. I’ve been waiting for another opportunity to talk to her, but our paths haven’t crossed. I even contemplated knocking on her door but didn’t want to seem desperate.

And here she is, alone.

I push open the door and drop my bag on the bench. She doesn’t even look up or miss a step. I don’t want to that creepy guy in the gym, but I’m not much of a runner.

I look around the room and see the rowing machine in the corner. I can do few reps and ease into a conversation with Brenna while she finishes her run.

“Looks like you’ve been at it for a while,” I say between stokes. She doesn’t respond, so I try again. “Do normally work out this late?”

She tucks a loose lock of her hair back behind her ear, and that’s when I see the headphones. I’m an idiot. With a shake of my head, I decide to do that workout after all and increase the tension on the machine. The steady pounding of her feet creates a perfect rhythm for my own motion. She doesn’t miss a step or slow down, and before I know it, I’ve worked up quite a sweat.

From the workout.

At least that’s what I try to tell myself. But as I row, my mind starts to wander. Her leg muscles contract and I imagine what they’d look like wrapped around me. The bounce of her tits, the flex of her ass, even the sweat trailing down her back, make me think of sex. My dick takes notice, and suddenly my own workout becomes very uncomfortable.

This isn’t working.

I’m going to give myself the worst case of blue balls just sitting here watching her move. I let go of the bar, and it smacks hard against the metal post. Brenna whips her head around, startled, and misses a step. At the speed she’s running, that slight error is catastrophic. Within a blink of an eye, she drops, and the belt pushes her right off the treadmill. She slams into the wall with enough force to rattle the mirrors.

“Son of a bitch!” I’m on my feet and rushing to where she’s crumpled on the floor. “Are you hurt?”

Brenna drops her head between her legs and starts gasping for breath. At this point, I’m panicked. “Brenna? Talk to me. Are you hurt?” I ask, pushing locks of sweaty black hair out of her face. Her eyes are shiny with tears. “Fuck. Don’t move. I’ll call an ambulance.”

“No. Don’t,” she manages to get out between breaths. “I’ll be okay.”

And that’s when I realize she isn’t crying; she’s laughing.

“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?” I ask, a little worried. Is hysterical laughing a sign of a concussion?

“I didn’t think this day could get any worse,” she says, wiping away the tears. “You must think I’m a crazy woman.”

She lets out a groan of pain as she tries to stand up and wobbles. I can see where this is heading. I scoop her off her feet and sit us both down on the floor.

“What—”

“Give yourself a second,” I say with her sitting on my lap. “Let’s make sure you’re not hurt.”

She lets out a deep breath and nods. Now that she’s not trying to do something stupid like stand, I should slide her off my lap. But I don’t. It feels so fucking good to hold her in my arms.

The heat of her body is intense, and my dick kindly reminds me of all the filthy thoughts I’d just had about her. I take a deep breath and pull my gaze away from her ripe lips before I do something reckless.

I focus instead on making sure she’s uninjured. There’s blood on her arm, and I suppress the urge to swear. This is my fault. I should have made sure she knew I was in the room.

“I’m fine. You don’t need to interrupt your workout to look after me,” she says.

“Your arm’s bleeding,” I say. “Let me take care of that.”

She sighs and holds out her arm for me to inspect. I pull a towel out of my bag and clean the sweat and blood of her arm. Luckily, it’s just a minor friction burn. I grab a water bottle and rinse the wound, then hand her the rest.

“Drink the rest,” I order. “You’re probably dehydrated.”

Again, she complies without argument, taking the bottle and settling back into my arms. Every attempt to help her so far has been rebuffed, but now, suddenly, she doesn’t bat an eye at my demands. Maybe, I should be concerned about head trauma.

“If you hit your head, you shouldn’t be alone,” I say, checking for blood around her hairline. “Do you have someone that can stay over? A boyfriend, maybe? I can help you back to your apartment.”

She blinks and looks up at me, those clear blue eyes furrow with concern. “What am I doing? I’m sorry. You don’t need to worry about me. You probably want to get back to your workout. Or go to bed. It’s got to be past midnight by now.”

She tries to scramble out of my lap, but I hold tight. “I’m worried about you.”

“Oh,” she says, her pink lips forming a perfect circle. “I’m not used to having someone worry about me.”

Fuck, I want to kiss her. I want to taste those lips, bite and suck on them until she’s moaning with need instead of pain. I want to feel her firm thighs flex around my hips as I sink into her.

I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear and let my fingers trail down her jaw. “Have dinner with me tomorrow?”

Her frown returns and I’m positive she’s about to turn me down, but then Brenna surprises me once again.

“I’d like that,” she says a little breathy. “As long as it’s early,” she adds. “Landon has band practice until eight.”

I barely resist pumping a fist in the air. “I can make that work,” I say.  I have a meeting at four, but I’ll be damned if I’m not going to reschedule. It’s unlikely I’ll get another opportunity like this. “Why don’t I pick you up at five thirty?”

She stands up and grabs her phone off the floor. The color is finally returning to her face, and her blue eyes look a little brighter.

“I guess I don’t need to give you directions,” she says and hands back the water bottle. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I don’t want her to leave. But as I watch her walk always, I have to admit, the view is nice. “Until tomorrow.”