Bad Intentions (17 page)

“You’re a lifesaver.” He holds up his hands as if he is praying and presses them into his chest before turning around to jog down the hallway, leaving me with my jaw on the ground.

“He’s gay?” I turn to ask Zoe.

She throws her head back. “I don’t think he knows what he is. But I know that he has more game than a casino. He’s always pulling tail, whether it’s male or female, he has a knack for getting laid.”

This. Is. Too. Much.

After the news of a lifetime, Zoe and I both decide to play hooky. As soon as I mentioned going to the gym, she was down to hang out. I’m sure it actually has more to do with seeing Kaiser than spending time with me, but that’s okay. Half of my reasoning is to see Ryle.

“I don’t really work out.” Jane grimaces. We walk side by side down the narrow sidewalk, as Zoe lags behind, texting on her phone. She’s been glued to it lately. I hope she hasn’t joined the masses and started sexting.

“It’s fun,” I lie. Exercising isn’t fun. It’s torture. It’s the result that makes it worth it. Now that I don’t have gymnastics, I almost
have
to work out to keep my figure. “Do you have any pent-up energy?”

A smile runs the length of her face. “Nope. I got it all out this morning.”

The thought alone makes me want to puke. “Okay, well…there are also cute guys at the gym. I know you’re into Tank, but a little eye candy never hurt anyone.” As soon as I say it, her eyes light up, and I almost want to take back my words. What if she ogles a certain eye candy that’s off limits? “There’s one guy who may be there. Do you know Ryle Benson?”

“Doesn’t every female in town?”

Lovely.

“Well he’s off limits,” I bark.

“A little possessive now, are we?”

Suddenly my face goes grim. “Like I said, he’s off limits.” Why did I decide to babysit this little butch?

We close the distance to the gym and make our way inside. Much to my surprise, it’s busier than normal. I’ve never seen it like this. Twisting around, I notice that all the machines are taken. Jane spots a friend of the opposite sex and sashays over to wear he and a group of testosterone junkies are standing. At least she’s out of my hair. I turn around to say something to Zoe, and she’s already gone too.

“It’s busy.” That darn husky voice that makes me want to melt nears my side.

I don’t know why, but Ryle stirs something within me. He sparks a sass that I never knew I possessed. “Really, Sherlock?”

Our bickering has no bounds.

His laugh is deep. It’s a nice sound, and one that I’ve never heard before. I lean closer to his side. Our shoulders almost touch. “Do you want to spot me?” he asks.

I refrain from saying what’s really on my mind. “Sure,” I say instead. I follow Ryle to a row of benches where one has just opened up. He bends and lies on his back, grabbing the bar over his head. I watch his forearms flex as his hands grip the bar. My fingers beg me to allow them to reach forward and trace every protruding vein on his exposed limbs. I glance at the weights on each end. Here’s to hoping he’s as strong as he looks, and he can actually bench it.

“Just stand back there, and if you think I need help, grab the bar. Or just yell
help,
and someone will come help
us.”

“It’s not my first time lifting weights,” I retort. “In fact, I’m pretty strong.” Years of balancing my own body weight defined my muscles.

“Oh, I know it’s not your first time. You look,” his eyes travel over my body and hover over the curve of my ribcage. I quickly glance down to my legs, thankful that I didn’t forget to put on a pair of yoga pants. “Like you’ve lived in a gym.” He tightens his grasp on the metal bar hanging over him.

My mouth dries. I shouldn’t be shocked that he just checked me out, but I am. I am so totally reeling. I watch as he effortlessly guides the bar up and down repeatedly. I find it strange that he doesn’t count each rep. Normally, men push themselves to the limit, trying to beat their previous rep count. He just does as many as he can before his triceps start to quiver.

“Your turn,” he instructs, as he leans forward and hops off the bench. Guided down with his hand, I lie on my back.

Please crawl on top of me.
My inner self screams, as my moral compass goes haywire.

As soon as I pull the bar off its safety latches, my minds goes straight into training mode. We continue to rotate until we’re both ready to move on to the next leg of our workout. Occasionally, I look around the gym, only to spot Zoe giving Kaiser googly eyes and Jane flirting with every Tom, Dick and Harry in sight. I contemplate sending Tank a quick text to tell him that his girl is a tramp, but then I remember that I don’t know him as well as I thought I did, and that he’s a tramp too.

“What’s your major?” Ryle asks before jumping up on a treadmill. He turns to face me as I press the incline button on my machine.

“I want to be a physical therapist.”

“Get the hell out. So do I.”

I mentally talk myself out of squealing.

As our legs fall in unison with one another, he asks, “What made you decide on that field?” It’s funny how truly interested he seems.

“I had an accident when I was younger,” I refrain from spilling my guts about the gory details of my fall. “I didn’t realize it then because I was pissed at the world, but in time, I realized how thankful I was for my therapist. It didn’t matter how aggravated I was at my body, she always kept pushing me. Eventually, with her help, I pushed myself harder. My recovery was all because of her, and I’ll be thankful for that until I die.”

“I’m sure she knows,” he chimes in.

“Knows what?”

“How thankful you are.”

The steady sound of my feet hitting the revolving belt as I run drowns out the sound of my heart beating wildly in my chest.

“What about you, what’s your story?” I pray he doesn’t shut down.

“I’m pretty much an open and closed book.” That’s a bold-faced lie. “I never had any horrific accident, or whatever, that made me interested in the field. I need a backup plan if a career in baseball doesn’t pan out, and it seemed like the most interesting thing. I could work out all day and help people gain back their mobility in the process. It seems like a win-win to me.”

One lock of hair falls onto his forehead as he speaks. I want to reach over and swipe it away, but someone else gets to it first. “Baby, you should have called me if you were coming to the gym. It’s Monday, and on Monday’s, I work out.” Naomi’s voice cuts right through me. If only there was a way to un-friend people.

On Monday’s she works out? She’s so epically lame. I feel uncomfortable by her presence as she presses the stop button on his machine and tries to climb onto the treadmill with him.

“Naomi,” he speaks harshly. “Now is not the time.”

I can’t help but keep my neck craned and stare at their exchange.

“There’s always time for kisses.” I close my eyes before she leans forward. I never want to see what is about to happen.

“What the heck, Ryle?” At the sound of her distaste, my eyes spring open. She’s now standing back on the floor with her hand on her hip.

“I said stop. I’m busy training.”

Her eyes bore into mine. “It looks like you’re busy alright.”

“Stop playing pointless games, and go away,” he dismisses her with the wave of his hand.

I cannot believe what is happening. He’s actually pushing her away—and she’s going—but it’s as reluctantly as possible. “You’re so charming. It’s a wonder ladies aren't tossing their boy-shorts at you,” I snicker.

The beginning of a smile tips his mouth. “Just ignore her. It’s what I try to do.”

“Why is she on your nuts?” I say with no signs of relenting in my tone. I want to know what’s going on between them. Zoe would be proud of me using slang like I know what I’m talking about.

“It’s…she’s…you know what? Do you want to get out of here?” He pulls the emergency string on his machine, its movement coming to a sudden halt.

“And go where?”

“I don’t know. Running? Clear our heads. We wouldn’t have the interruption or nuisance of others being around.”

I know what nuisance he’s talking about, and I’m on cloud nine knowing he wants to flee her presence. “Yeah. I’m game. Just let me tell Z so she isn’t waiting around for me.”

Our eyes find her and Kaiser nuzzled together in a corner. “It looks like she’s a little preoccupied herself. I’m not sure she’ll even notice your absence.”

“You’re right. Let’s go.”

We leave the gym without as much as a goodbye. The daylight greets us with welcoming beauty as we step outside. I’m not usually a runner, so I don’t know how graceful I look, but within a few strides, I fall into place next to Ryle and thank God the weather is nice. Every few feet I can’t help but sneak a sideways peek at him. He’s a natural. I can tell by the way he looks—his brows aren’t scrunched up like I know mine are. There isn’t so much as a droplet of sweat lingering on his forehead. He’s perfection.

With pavement flying by under our feet, we run for what feels like hours. I glance at the phone in my hand, but it’s only been thirty minutes. Still, thirty minutes on a treadmill and thirty running on flat land are two extremely different things.

My feet stop moving and I bend at the waist, exhausted. I am utterly worn out. I raise a hand to wipe sweat off my face. “I need a second,” I call out, wheezing.

Ryle laughs. “Okay let’s take a break. Right there.” He points to a bench placed under a big tree a few feet away. “You’re not a runner, are you?”

“It’s that noticeable, huh?”

Sitting on the bench, he answers, “Not that you looked like a total fool, but yes, it was noticeable. I thought you are into gymnastics or something? Don’t they train harder than shit?”

“Past tense, and yes, I did train. All I did was train. But I never really sprinted for long periods of time.”

“It’s all we do in baseball. We run for entire practices sometimes.”

“That’s brutal.”

He lets out a low, throaty laugh. “Trust me, after a year of playing college ball, I know.”

“Wait, you’re a sophomore?” I ask, shocked. How did I not know this? I thought he was a freshman like me, Zoe and Tank.

“Yup. But, I should be a freshman.” He nudges my shoulder with his, inviting a swarm of butterflies into my stomach. “I doubled up on classes and go to school online all summer.”

I try to keep the incredulous look off my face. “Why?”

“I know I’m going to get drafted—.”

I interrupt. “Cocky much?”

“Let me finish,” he glares playfully. “I’ve been told there’re a few major league teams interested in me. But I won’t go pro until I finish college.”

It’s odd to hear him say that school’s more important than his passion for baseball. Gymnastics was the most important thing in the world to me. I put it before school, my boyfriend, and even my health.

“Are you the first kid to graduate from college or something?” I’m a freaking idiot. For the millionth time, my filter gets jammed, and I say something without thinking. “I’m sorry, that was really insensitive. It’s great that you want to get a degree and then pursue your dreams.”

“You don’t have to walk on eggshells.” Raising a hand, he wipes it over his face.

I stare at him wearily. “I just…I don’t know…You. Your story.” I fumble over my words, unsure of exactly what I want to get out. Opening my mouth, I begin to tell him I’m sorry, but he cuts me off. Pressing his index finger into my lips, he leans forward. My senses are on overdrive as his scent fills my personal bubble. There’s a roughness to his cheek as it brushes mine.

“Our story is just beginning. Don’t ruin it with tales from the past,” he rasps into my ear. He hovers long enough to cause chill bumps to break out all over my body. A shudder follows, traveling from the tips of my ears to my toes.

I’m speechless.

Our story?

What does that even mean? I want so badly to ask him. I want to know where his head is at. “Okay,” I whisper breathlessly.

He gazes at me with an expectant look on his face, like he expects me to question him. As bad as I want to, I bite my tongue instead. For once. I wonder how long this little game is going to go on. In front of people, we’re both total jerks to one another, but when we’re alone, it’s so different. He isn’t scared to talk to me when it’s just us, but I highly doubt we’re in one of those “relationships” where the guy screws the girl behind closed doors and ignores her in front of people.

Trying to figure out Ryle Benson boggles my mind.

“We should probably head back.” His pinky finger brushes ever so gently against mine. “I have somewhere I need to be.”

I nod, stand up, and follow him back to the gym, wondering when our next run-in will be.