Emma steps into the gym and flashes the guy at the counter a megawatt smile.

His eyes go straight to her. "Ms. Kane, right?"

"Yeah." She presses her palm against the counter. "Alan, right?"

He nods. "Been awhile."

She nods. "Yeah. I'm not the gym type. Getting back in shape though." She pats her stomach over her hoodie.

It's a ridiculous claim.

Maybe Emma isn't a body builder.

But she's hot, any way you cut it.

Those leggings are tight on her long limbs.

And, fuck, the way that sheer black mesh skims her skin—

I want to tear those things off.

To dive between her legs.

Lick her until she's screaming.

My heart thuds.

My blood races.

It's a normal reaction at the gym.

Almost.

She unzips her hoodie and hangs it over her arm.

Her tits strain against her tight black sports bra.

That's all she's wearing.

Fuck me leggings and a tiny sports bra.

She's trying to kill me.

I suck a breath through my teeth.

Shrug my shoulders.

Fail to direct my blood back to my brain.

There's something wrong with me.

I'm magnetically drawn to shit that's bad for me.

"So…" She motions to the weights on the left. Then to the cardio machines against the wall to the right. "What are we doing today?"

"We?" I ask.

"Yeah."

"You're gonna workout with me?"

She turns back to me. Stares into my eyes like she's best assessing how to fuck with me. "Sure."

"Really?"

"You don't think I can?"

"I'm sure you can."

"Good." She folds her arms over her chest. Sits on a bench. "Well…"

"Well?"

"What's the workout of the day?"

"Push."

She nods let's go then.

"You really think I'm gonna get into trouble here?"

"Yep." She motions to the rack of weights behind us. "Better stay busy."

My thoughts straighten.

She's right.

I can get into plenty of trouble here.

Every gym with serious lifters has at least one guy with a steroid hookup.

And he knows a guy who can get his hands on oxy fast.

Fuck, I barely did that shit. Alcohol was more than enough to get me trashed.

But I wasn't picky either.

Anything to eviscerate my thoughts.

Right now…

This is supposed to be my coping mechanism.

Where I work my shit out.

With her here—

I like Emma.

Too much.

I can't concentrate when she's around.

I can't let her know that.

"Help." I motion to the weight racks. "Bring me a forty-five-pound plate."

She stares like I'm crazy.

"You can lift it."

She shakes her head.

"Your backpack is heavier."

Her lips curl into a smile. "What do I get if I can?"

"What do you want?"

She shoots me a really look.

"Be reasonable." I'm keeping an eye on her. Even if it kills me.

"Okay. How about you tell me why you're staying with Brendon?"

I should tell her. Eventually.

But not now.

Not yet.

I need someone else thinking I'm worthwhile.

The way she looks at me—

Fuck, I need her to keep looking at me like that.

And to stop.

She's doing something to me.

Something I should be able to resist.

"That bad, huh?" She unfolds her legs. "I guess you really do need a babysitter."

"What do I get if I win?"

"How do you win?"

"You can carry the weight."

"That's how I win."

"How great that we both win."

She rolls her eyes. "That isn't how competitions work."

"All right." I know her well enough to bait her. "I'll bet you can't get through my entire workout."

"Well, duh. Not at whatever you're lifting. I spend time outside the gym."

"You have an issue with something?"

"No." Her gaze shifts to my shoulders. My chest. My arms. "You look pretty good."

"Pretty good?"

"You're hot, yeah, but at what cost?"

"I like working out."

"But you could be watching TV."

I can't help but chuckle. "At whatever weight challenges you."

"So you think I'm going to give up."

I shrug maybe.

Her eyes narrow. "Fine. But I want a prize."

She presses her red lips together.

Fuck, she has pretty lips.

Lush. Soft. Perfect around my—

No.

I can't let my head go there.

It doesn't matter how much I want those perky tits in my hands. Or how much I want that smart mouth—

"If I win—" I steer my thoughts back to the conversation. "I'll buy you coffee."

"You'll do that anyway."

"Ask for something else."

"You do the dishes. For a week."

"All right. And if I win."

"Doesn't matter. You won't." She offers her hand.

I shake.

Her smile widens.

Determination spreads over her expression.

It calls every ounce of my attention.

I want to keep pushing her.

To bring out that fire.

To be around this fierce girl.

She skips to the weight rack.

She struggles with the plate, but she manages to bring it back to the seat.

We take turns loading the bar.

I claim a free bench for her.

She slides the last weight onto the right side. "That good?"

"Yeah." I secure the weights. Take a seat. "You're warmed up now."

"Uh-huh."

"Lie down." I motion to the bench next to mine. "You're gonna use the bar."

She stares at me like I'm crazy.

"It's lighter than the plate." All right, the same weight as the plate. But close enough. "You've got it. Trust me."

"Okay, but if I can't, bet's off."

"Fair."

She sits on the bench. "I want to state, for the record, that this is a waste of time."

"Is it?"

"Yeah. Why spend all your time at the gym?"

"It feels good, getting stronger," I say.

"Getting bigger?"

"Well, yeah."

Her gaze flits to my crotch. It's a quick second. But it's as clear as day.

Her eyes meet mine.

Her cheeks flush. "Does that ever happen?"

"Do I ever get hard at the gym?"

"Yeah." She motions to the women on the treadmill. "There are attractive women here." She arches her back, thrusting her chest in the air. "I mean, look at me."

Fuck, I'm looking too closely.

She's so tall.

Long and lean with slight curves and soft skin.

I shake my head. "You ever hear guys talking about a pump?"

"No…"

"Blood's flowing to your muscles during a workout."

"Exactly."

"This place is kind of a sausage fest."

"Yeah." She makes a show of checking out the guy at the lat pull down. "There are some hotties here."

"Now you'll have an excuse to hang out."

"I've seen better."

I can't help but smile. She's ridiculous.

I shake it off. Slide onto my bench. Lift the barbell. This is supposed to be a warm-up set. It should feel light.

But with Emma watching me…

Fuck, it's weird.

I close my eyes. Focus on my form. My breath. The strain in my chest.

"It doesn't look too hard." Her voice is soft. Curious. "Heavy. But simple."

"It is." I push out another three reps. "You need me to show you how to do it?" Two more.

"Okay."

There.

"But you have to promise it won't turn me into a dumb bro."

I can't help but laugh.

"I mean, look at you, Hunter. All that blood pumping your muscles. Fleeing your brain."

"How do you figure?"

"You're here when you could be having sex."

"Shit, that escalated."

"Well TV only gets so far."

"You ever figure this helps me do that?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, it's not like women are flocking to you for your charming personality."

My lips curl into a smile. "So if you think about it, this is the smartest thing I could be doing."

"No. I don't think so."

My chest warms. It feels good, teasing her. Too fucking good. "On your back."

"We're doing it like that?"

"Yeah." If I start ordering Emma around… Fuck. "On your back."

She slides onto her back.

"Wrap your hands around the bar."

"Like it's a dick?"

"Why would that be my example?"

"You're lifting a giant rod. Why would I think there's something phallic about that?"

"You're making me think about how I hold my dick."

A wicked smile spreads over her lips. "Am I?"

"Just grab it."

"Well, if you want it that badly." She wraps her hands around the barbell. "Too hard?"

"No. You're good."

"Noted." Her brown eyes light up as she laughs. "What's the point of this?"

"If you want to lose to me…"

Fire fills her eyes.

It's out of the question.

She nods a let's do this.

I get into position, ready to catch the weight if it's too heavy for her. "Lift the bar above the guardrail."

She grimaces as she pushes the bar up.

"You've got it." I keep my hand over the bar. "Now lower it to your chest."

Slowly, she lowers her arms.

"This is a push motion. This is where it really starts."

"Now you tell me."

"It's been easy, hasn't it?"

"No. It's fucking heavy."

I can't help but chuckle.

"What's funny about that?"

"It is fucking heavy."

"Well, yeah." Her eyes narrow. Her lips press together. With a grunt, she pushes the weight up.

"Don't lock your elbows."

"What?"

My fingers brush her arm. "Keep a soft bend here."

"Oh." She finishes the movement. Takes a deep breath. Lowers slowly.

"You have good form."

"Thanks, I guess."

"Let's go for five."

She groans. "Fine."

But she's faking that discontent.

It's like with her studying.

Maybe she's not into the idea of chest presses.

But now that she's here, she's ready to destroy them.

She destroys everything she takes on.

And, fuck, I want to be around to watch that.

I want to see her spread her wings.

I…

I need to find a better way to resist her.

There is something.

I hate it.

But it's the only idea I've got.