Chapter One
I bit my lip as the doorbell rang above my head. A few guys turned to stare at me. They were huge and muscular. Their bodies were shiny. I couldn’t tell if they were oiled up or just sweaty.
I squared my shoulders, adjusted my gym bag and made my way over to the counter.
“Hey.” I smiled at the woman sitting behind the counter. She was one of those perky little blondes you love to hate.
“Hi, I’m Sandy. How can I help you?”
“I um, just moved to the area and I’d like a gym membership.”
“Of course!” She went into the drawer and pulled out a few papers.
An hour later I had my gym membership. She’d wanted to give me the “best package for girls,” as she had put it. It included dance aerobics, yoga, a spinning class, and some other things. The thing was, I already had a place to do my yoga, and I really wasn’t interested in taking any classes, so I just took the basic membership. I stowed my bag in a locker and headed for the free weight section. I’d decided do a back and shoulders workout. I stopped in front of the chin-up bar. It was so tall I had to tilt my head up to actually see it. I let out a deep breath. Damn you short girl problems. I crouched and jumped as high as I could. It was just enough to get one hand around the bar.
I ignored the eyes on me. People always stared when I did chin-ups because I always had issues getting on the bar. Since I’m short and rail thin, they tend to underestimate me. I managed to get my other hand on the bar, get my grip right and then it was time to go. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and focused on using my back muscles to pull me up completely. I did ten repetitions before dropping down. I looked in the mirror in front of me but I saw more than my own reflection.
There was a man behind me. He was tall, with large muscles, like a statue come to life. He had a tattoo running down his right arm onto his chest. My eyes locked on his. He stared right back at me. He was wearing black sweatpants and a black t-shirt. The shirt looked like it could barely contain his massive chest and arms. His hands were wrapped.
I hadn’t planned on boxing today, but maybe I would.
I forced myself to look away, slammed down some water and jumped back up onto the chin-up bar. I did two more sets before calling it quits. I headed for the locker room, pulled out my tape and wrapped my wrists and hands.
I had boxed for years. Thai boxing actually, but it seemed like no one knew what that was. There weren’t any Thai boxing clubs in my new town, so I was stuck using this gym. If I’d known that before I moved, I might have changed my mind.
I grabbed a fresh water bottle and headed for the heavy bags in the back of the gym. I glanced in the mirror. My eyes locked on him again. I felt a blush touch my cheeks as he shrugged the weight he was holding carefully. His intense gaze didn’t shift away from mine until I turned my back on him and stopped in front of the bags. I glanced over my shoulder to see him putting the weights away; he turned and spoke to another guy who had tattoos. He nodded and then went back to his workout.
I forced myself to focus on what I was doing. Jab, jab, jab, hook. Left elbow, right jab; another jab and a right hook.
The bag swayed as I stepped away from the bag and took a long drink.
“You’ve got one hell of a hook on you.”
I turned to look at the person who said it. My heart skipped a beat. Green eyes, tattoo on his arm going onto his chest. I couldn’t make it out with the black muscle shirt in the way. I looked him over now that he was closer. His light brown hair was short and spiky, and he had a trace of stubble on his face.
He flashed me a perfectly white smile, and I was glad I was already sweating.
“Thanks,” I said as I drained half the water bottle. I glanced down at the wraps on his wrist. “You box?”
He had a trace of a smile. “A little.”
“Nice.” I wasn’t sure what else to say
Simon Brett, Prefers to remain anonymous
Jay Bonansinga, Robert Kirkman