I needed to.
Once the monosyllabic beast of a man signed me up for a membership, I made my way to the treadmill, eyeing it with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.
For years, running had been like breathing. There was nothing like the elation of pushing your body to its limit, of feeling free and strong. I missed it desperately and was terrified I wouldn’t get it back. That I couldn’t.
It’s a fucking treadmill, Layla, I scolded myself, stepping onto the machine. I was grateful the gym was nearly empty at this early weekday hour as I started at a brisk walking pace and zoned out to the music filtering in through my earbuds. It was a seemingly small thing and yet felt so monumental, one of the first steps I was taking to reclaim my life and who I’d once been.
Despite lack of exercise, I was trim, a function largely of being a single parent for the past two years. But the muscle tone was gone—the oneness with my frame and what it could do was gone.
And dammit, I was getting it back. I punched up the speed a couple of notches, moving into a slow jog, more resolved than ever.
Thirty minutes later, I’d slowed to a steady walk, willing some classic Janet Jackson to push me through my last few minutes. The gym had been empty when I’d walked in and I used the privacy to my advantage, letting my hands move to the music, rocking out to entertain myself through the final push.
When I stopped the treadmill and stepped off, I nearly collapsed on my already wobbly legs.
The Viking was doing pull-ups straight ahead of me. Wearing black gym shorts and a white tank with the sides cut out, his muscles gleamed with sweat as he pulled himself upward. His body was magnificent. Every muscle was toned and cut to perfection.
He let out a low grunt of effort, and my entire body shivered in response.
Jerk, he’s a jerk, I reminded myself. Even if he was a glistening body of male perfection. Even if the low grunts he made roused a nearly animalistic response in me I hadn’t known existed.
Shit, maybe I needed a different gym.
After a few moments where I stood hopelessly gawking, he dropped down and rubbed his hands together, looking satisfied. Hell, I’d be satisfied too if I’d just done a gazillion pull-ups.
His gaze snapped to mine, and in that moment, I swore I felt an actual spark shoot through me. My intake of breath was embarrassingly loud in the quiet space. We stared at each other for a few moments, the energy snapping like a live wire between us.
Then I remembered the night before, and my face flamed with humiliation. I turned away, disgusted with myself for ogling him, and headed for the weight rack on the opposite side of the gym.
I was lying on my back, my weights poised above me, when black shorts entered my periphery. My arms shook with a combination of surprise and too much weight.
“Whoa there, chief.” His deep voice sounded as his handsome face came into view above me. “Need some help?” His brow arched as his large hands clasped mine, helping me with the weight.
“No,” I gritted out in frustration, setting the weights on my knees and sitting up.
He sat on the bench next to me, his gaze sweeping toward the treadmill and then back at me. “Nice moves.” His smothered grin earned a glare from me.
“If you don’t like it, don’t watch it.” I shrugged with more confidence than I felt.
He eyed me steadily. “Didn’t say I didn’t like it.”
I fought the full-body shudder his intensity incited. His look was nearly predatory as his gaze roved my body before locking eyes with me again.
I looked away quickly, needing to break the spell for my own sanity. It had been a while since I’d been with anyone, but that wasn’t it. Not really. It was just him. I’d never had this kind of immediate attraction to someone before. And the fact he was such an arrogant ass pissed me right the hell off.
“Is there something you wanted?” I demanded when he continued to stare at me as though trying to figure me out.
“Why’d you want an escort to your car last night?” he asked finally.
The audacity of this guy, seriously. “None of your business,” I shot back.
His brows rose as though shocked anyone would dare refuse him. It probably didn’t happen often, if ever.
I stood up and with difficulty that I tried to mask, set the weights back on the rack.
“Maybe I should help you with the next few sets,” he offered, smothering another grin.
He might be an asshole, but my body didn’t seem to care about that, if my rock-hard nipples and pounding heart were any indication. Getting as far away from him as possible was clearly my best bet.
“I—” A group of girls walked in, chattering loudly over the drone of the treadmills. Their eyes all immediately fell to Cash as they preened and pulled at their outrageously skimpy workout attire. It was obvious they’d come in hopes of seeing him.
He looked down at his hands, his brow furrowed as he muttered something unintelligible.
“I’ll just leave you to it,” I told him as the girls moved closer still.
“Hi Cash,” one of them chirped hopefully.
I didn’t watch their exchange, instead walking back past the front desk to my car, leaving him with his pack of admirers.
Chapter 4
CASH
I watched the blonde with the stunning green eyes walk away, ignoring the pack of tittering girls trying to get my attention.
Easy pussy was just that, easy. And boring.
The blonde sparked my interest in a way a female hadn’t in years. I’d assumed she’d been hitting on me last night, and with her daughter in tow, no less. Hell, it had happened more than once before. But I’d been wrong. Way fucking wrong. She hadn’t felt safe, had been asking me for protection, and I’d responded like a dick. I’d thought about it all night, unable to sleep wondering why she needed help in the first place. She looked young to have a daughter, younger than me. I wanted to know her story. I was surprised how much.
And now, after having those gorgeous green eyes turned on me with a mixture of vulnerability and fire lighting them, I was fucking obsessed.
“Looks like you’re making friends,” Gunner chortled, coming to stand alongside me, his amused gaze on the spitfire’s back as she stormed away, her delicious ass swaying as she went.
“Who is she?” I demanded.
His brow rose. “Why? You’re interested?”
I didn’t blame him for being surprised. I didn’t typically express interest one way or the other. Women typically came to me, as was evidenced by the three giggling around me now as I tried to work out. If I wanted someone to warm my bed for the night, I took the opportunity. More often than not, I preferred to be alone or with my brothers. “More than,” I confirmed with conviction.
“Man.” He shook his head. “I think you should steer clear. Layla’s got a lot going on in her life. Plus, I don’t think she’s the one-and-done type.”
My eyes narrowed. “That’s not what I’m after. Not with her. And why do you know so much about her?”
“Em had me help her out with some legal shit,” he explained. “Her nan passed away, left her the house. Marty was pulling his typical shit, being pushy. I looked over the paperwork for her. Made sure it was straight.”