I felt adrenaline course through me as Saint approached me. This time he didn’t go easy on me. He grabbed my arm and spun me around until my back was against his front and his arms were around me in a reverse bear hug.

He was so much bigger than I was that his giant body engulfed mine and wrapped around it like a shell. My arms were pinned, and I frantically tried to remember what to do. I tried throwing my ass back into his groin, but he bent out of the way in anticipation. I tried throwing my head back, but his arms were like tight bands around me, limiting my range of motion.

I could hear his heavy breathing in my ear, and it was making me hot. Sweat poured out of me as my body’s nerves fired sensations rapidly into my memory banks. The feel of his strong thighs pressing in behind my hamstrings, the sight of his thick forearm across my chest, the smell of his unique, fresh scent wafting off his hard body, only this time it was mixed with masculine overtones from our workout session. The combination was banging all kinds of pots and pans in my head, begging for my attention.

I struggled in his tight hold again, and his face came closer to rest against the side of mine with a scratch of beard against beard. My eyes squeezed closed, and I tried everything I could think of to convince my body to try and get out of his hold. But how the hell could I be expected to fight him when all my body wanted to do was stay right where it was—feeling the intoxicating man against me?

“Stop and think,” Saint murmured into my ear. “Do whatever it takes.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I muttered as I reached up to grip the forearm he had tight around my upper chest.

I felt more than heard the grumble of a laugh. “Think I can’t defend myself against a little antiques dealer?”

As I continued to struggle without making any progress, my eyes strayed to the muscled forearm I held. I moved before I could stop myself, leaning my head down until my mouth landed on his warm skin. I teased the skin first with the tip of my tongue and felt his entire body stiffen before I opened my mouth and bit down.

“Fuck!” he grunted, jumping back while still trying to hold on to me with the other arm he had around my waist. I followed his momentum toward his center mass and threw my body weight against his massive chest. We landed together on the mat in a heap of arms and legs with me lying on top of him but moving as fast as I could to scramble off.

Once I was moving away from him in a defensive crouch, I finally noticed his shocked expression.

And the red bite mark standing out angrily on his forearm.

My eyes snapped back up to his, and I felt my stomach drop as the reality set in. I’d hurt him. I’d hurt a man who could pound me into the ground with one fist.

“Saint,” I said. “Oh my god.” I raced back toward him and carefully reached out my hand for his arm. “Shit, shit. Saint, I’m so sorry. Fuck.”

“It’s okay,” he said gently. “That was a really good move. It worked, didn’t it?”

“No. I mean, yes it worked, but no, it wasn’t a good move to use when we were just practicing.” I lifted his forearm up to inspect it closely and run my fingers over it. The little hairs around it on his arm stood on end, and I felt another wave of embarrassment at doing something so childish. Had I really bit him?

“I’m sorry,” I said again—only this time it was a whisper.

“Augie,” he said, using his own fingers to tilt my chin up so he could see me. “I’m fine. You didn’t even break the skin. Do you remember me telling you to do whatever it takes?”

“Yes, but—”

“And don’t you think it would have been worse if you’d gotten me in the groin?” he said, a small quirk appearing on the side of his lip.

My face suffused with heat at the mention of Saint’s groin, and I looked away.

Warm fingers gently guided my face back to his. “Augie, don’t you think I’d be proud to know you could do that in a real-life situation? And seeing you do it here proves that to me.”

I had to find a way to ratchet down the intensity of the moment, or I was going to walk into this big man’s embrace seeking comfort and reassurance like a baby.

“I just know how bad it must make you feel to get bested by a little antiques dealer,” I said with a straight face.

He blinked at me before realizing I was teasing. “Well, I didn’t say my feelings weren’t hurt.”

I cracked a smile and stepped back, away from the long, warm fingers on my face. “What’s next?” I asked.

Almost two hours later we were dripping with sweat and limping out of the training room toward the locker room.

“I can’t believe you bit my leg, jackass,” I complained, leaning down to rub the sore spot on my calf through my pants.

“Dude, you started it,” Saint said. “Payback is hell.”

“Yeah, but I’m the client,” I whined. “And I can barely walk as it is without being reminded of this dog bite every time I move my muscle.”

“Are you calling me a dog?” He turned to grin at me as he held open the door to the locker room.

“If the collar fits,” I teased. Saint seemed more open and playful than he had the first night we’d met. I enjoyed seeing the lighter side of him and wondered if he’d just been in a serious mood the other night or if that was his norm. We’d spent the last part of our session teasing each other like old friends, and it felt comfortable and fun.

“We went twice as long as I’d planned tonight. I kind of lost track of time. You should alternate ice packs and hot baths for sore muscles. I’ll grab you a chocolate milk for some protein. You’ll need to hydrate and get some good sleep.”

“Seriously? I didn’t just run the Boston marathon.”

The man disappeared for a moment before coming back in with two small cartons of chocolate milk. “Here. Drink it.”

I did as he said, sitting down on a bench while I downed the cold sweetness. Saint sat down next to me and did the same. I could feel the heat radiating off his thigh next to mine on the narrow bench. We didn’t speak as we drank.

As my body cooled further, my sweaty skin began to chill in the tiled locker room and I shivered.

“Did everyone leave, do you think?” I asked. I guessed it was late, and the building seemed empty.

“Probably. The owner is off today because of some medical appointments. Leona gave me a set of keys to lock up if I was here later than everyone else.”

“Are you and Rex dating?” I asked before I could stop myself. My teeth clamped together after the words were out of my mouth, but it was too late to get them back.

“Who?” Saint asked.

“Never mind. None of my business. Forget I asked.”

He grinned. “No. Rex and I aren’t dating.”

“Just friends?” I asked, clearly unable to stop myself from being nosy.

“Just friends.”

“Oh.” I rested my forearms on my thighs and rolled the plastic bottle back and forth between my palms.

I felt Saint’s eyes on me. “Do you like to dance?”

My eyes flicked up to meet his. “Oh. Ah… yeah, I guess. Well, no. Not really.”

Saint laughed, exposing the twisted tooth in his smile that made me want to drop my pants and beg. “Well, which one is it? Yeah, I guess, or no, not really?”

I swallowed. “I like to, yes. But I suck at it. So I try never to do it in front of other people.”

“That’s too bad. Life’s too short to worry about what other people think about you,” Saint said in a kind voice. “You should go out to a club one night where you don’t know anyone and just let go. Swing your arms, shake your ass, and throw your head back.”

I imagined Saint doing that and felt my lips turn up. “You’re probably a little bit crazy, aren’t you?”

He laughed again. “Yeah, I guess. My mom used to call me a loon.”

“I can see that. Where are you from?”

“Born and raised right here in Hobie.”

“Oh. I guess I knew that if Hudson is your brother” was all I could think to say. “Are your parents still in Hobie?”

“Nope. They’re halfway around the world living abroad. What about you?” Saint’s smile was still there, but it no longer reached his eyes. I wanted to take back the stupid question that removed the sparkle from his eyes.

“Dallas.”

“Highland Park boy?”

“Something like that,” I replied. I wondered if kids who grew up with my family’s kind of money were automatically assholes in Saint’s book. If so, I could hardly blame him. I knew from experience those guys could be the worst of the bullies.

“Well then,” Saint said, standing up and grabbing our containers to toss in a nearby recycling bin before tossing me a wink. “I’d better let you get cleaned up so you can get home and count your gold bricks.”

I wanted to reach out and stop him. Stop this conversation and beg him to let us go back to a place of easy friendship and semi-equality—when we were just two guys on the mat wrestling around. I didn’t want to be client and trainer or rich kid and not-so-rich kid—or whatever the hell his shuttered eyes were implying. But we were those things. And I couldn’t exactly beg this guy to be my friend.

“Okay, yeah. Guess you’re right,” I murmured, standing up and walking toward the shower room. I felt a familiar numb feeling seep into my body. And feeling numb made me realize that for the past two hours I’d felt fantastically alive. Every part of my being had been awake, alert, and engaged. A day that had started with stressful memories of the shattered car window the night before had ended with a fantastic workout and enjoyable conversation with a nice person.

But, as usual, I’d found a way to fuck it up. I sucked at making friends. It was enough to make me wonder if I should just stop trying.

My muscles complained as I leaned over to shuck my pants and briefs, hanging my discarded clothes on a hook outside the shower area and making sure I had a towel waiting. Since I’d obviously said something to cause Saint to withdraw from me, I assumed he would avoid joining me in the shower.

I turned the spray as hot as I could stand it and stepped under it, facing the wall and bracing my hands against the tile so I could let the spray land on my shoulders and upper back. The hot water lulled me into a stupor, and I must have zoned out.

When Saint’s voice registered from somewhere behind me, it scared the shit out of me. I screamed, jumping and spinning around at the same time I scrambled as far back away from the noise as I could.

His eyes were wide and his mouth open in surprise. “Augie?”