I needed this tension … this feeling … out of my body.
First work.
Now my sister, my family.
Both had me rocked with no place to grab onto. Or that was what it felt like.
And the truth, which I also hated, was that I didn’t have anyone who could shoulder it the way I needed them to. To take the brunt of the pressure building and building, no outlet, no valve to release. They all had someone. They all had that person who’d know exactly what they needed at the moment they were most out of control.
My hands shook, and I imagined that metal box splitting angrily at the seams, paint peeling, edges crumpling from what was being held inside.
And what I needed, in the face of all this blistering emotion, was someone to roll with whatever came out of my mouth with no judgment and without trying to soften the blows or tell me I was overreacting, that I was too much for feeling this way.
Striding over to the iPad on the wall, I cued up one of my angry rock playlists and turned the volume up. A moment later, my hands were wrapped and shoved into my favorite black and purple gloves.
If there was no one to be that for me, I’d be that for myself.
I let out a deep breath in front of my favorite bag, stretched my arms out a few times, and started to move.
Chapter Ten
Aiden
It was a mistake to go back to the gym when I saw the lights on and realized her car was the only one in the parking lot. I’d recognize it later, the ramifications full and clear once all was said and done.
But at the moment, I wasn’t thinking about that. Even if I hadn’t left my wallet on my desk, the sight of her lone car, the bright lights, and the dark sky around the building probably would’ve made me stop.
Because it was only a matter of time before I recognized something important when it came to Isabel.
Curiosity and attraction were two entirely different things. Interest was so mundane because so many things held my interest.
Football held my interest, which was how I knew who she was, who her family was.
Working out held my interest because it kept me feeling strong and healthy and sane.
When I had the time, reading held my interest if the story was good.
Those were all easy and peaceful things that kept my attention and reduced my stress.
But if I thought my manager would fall neatly into that category once I figured her out, I was kidding myself.
That became apparent when I approached the front door, and with a grimace and a flare of anger, I found it unlocked. Interest never exploded into a bright ball of fiery emotion, something unnameable, at the realization she was inside with the music blaring while the door was wide-fucking-open for anyone to walk in.
Attraction did that. But I wasn’t ready to name it. Not until later.
The music was hard and angry—sort of like the rippling waves of emotion I was trying to keep in check—with guitars and drums and screaming rock, so I knew Isabel wouldn’t be able to hear the ding of the bell over the pulsing from the stereo system.
Even then, I could’ve turned around, locked the door behind me with my key, and left her to work out in peace. Once I knew that my state of mind was hardly polite, hardly civilized.
But I didn’t do that either.
“What the hell is she thinking?” I muttered.
When she avoided me, I let her be.
When I caught her dumping out the cup of coffee I bought her, I didn’t push.
When she continued, over and over, to do things that seemed completely at odds with what Amy had told me, I didn’t engage in the way I wanted to.
When I caught myself watching her, studying her, fighting the urge to pick her apart until I understood all these things that I didn’t seem to understand, I’d let her be.
But as I rounded the corner and she came into view, I knew I should have left. Something inside me screamed to turn and go. Leave her be now when it matters.
Because the first thing that came into my head when I noticed the graceful strength in her body, with hair unkempt, limbs and back coated with the sheen of unbelievable effort was, I could watch her do this all night.
I’d been lying to myself that I was only curious about her as my employee.
It wasn’t polite or professional as I stood and watched her. This had sharp, snapping teeth and a voracious appetite, something I hadn’t tapped into before.
Like shaking a limb that had fallen asleep, wincing through the pins and needles as the blood flow returned because for so long, that side of me had been silent.
I stopped to watch Isabel draw her left arm across her body to deliver an explosive back fist to the bag, followed by a right hook and, with a quick snap of her arm, an elbow strike.
Her technique wasn’t perfect, but when emotion took over, it was rare that anyone held their body correctly.
Finally, finally, I was seeing the real her. And I knew the truth of that bone-deep.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I tried to fight the warring emotions behind my ribs.
Leave now was the thought battling for dominance, but my curiosity and the completely mesmerizing way she moved held my feet firm on the ground.
No. Not curiosity. Attraction disguised as something far more innocent.
My gaze caught the edge of her high cheekbones and the sculpted line of her jaw. Even from where I stood, I could see how tightly she clenched that jaw, and I wanted to lay my hands on her shoulders and tell her to relax and breathe.
If I tried hard enough, I knew exactly how it would feel if I did. If I drew my thumbs down the line of her neck to unlock the muscles she was holding so tense. She’d go pliant if I did that. If I treated her with softness.
But I didn’t want to see her melt. Didn’t want to see her go into some sweet, tender place.
The fire in her was palpable, and I knew I was about to walk into it.
It was that instinct that had me leaning down to snatch the focus mitts that laid on the ground next to the ring. The remote for the stereo was on the floor by her bag, and as much as I didn’t want to get a roundhouse kick to the face from Isabel Ward, my own seething anger at her leaving the door unlocked had me approaching from her blind spot.
Just to see what she’d do.
Just to see what would happen.
It was stupid. And nothing, not a single thing, had excited me this much in two years.
If this was my chance to see the real, unguarded version of her, I would not waste it. And later, I could curse myself for a moment of weakness.
I shoved my hand into one focus mitt and rolled my neck before sticking the second one on.
When she drew her leg back and kicked the bag with such force that my eyebrows popped up, I held one mitt up to protect my face and touched her shoulder with the other.
With a roar fit for an Amazon, she whirled, glove aimed right at my face. I yanked my hand to catch the right cross on the mitt.
“Not bad!” I shouted over the music. “But next time, go for an uppercut off your back leg.”
Her chest was heaving, her blue eyes wide, and she kept her gloved hands at guard.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” she yelled.
I gestured to the door. “Anyone could’ve walked in here.”
Her eyes narrowed in a vicious glare, and for just a moment, I couldn’t help but glory in how well she wore anger. Isabel tugged off a glove, then reached down and snatched the remote, turning the volume down to a more manageable level.