Gym Junkie

“In that case, no.” He licks his lips slowly. “I save my special crazy just for you.”

I smile goofily. “That’s good then,” I whisper.

He raises a brow. “Is it?”

I bite my bottom lip as our eyes lock. Jesus. I probably shouldn’t drink anymore.

His eyes drop slowly down to my feet and back up to my face. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” I smile nervously.

The three men he was standing with approach us, and Brock smiles their way. “Tully, this is Jesten, Mason, and Scott.”

“Hello.” The three men all shake my hand and smile back at me. Every one of them is buff and gorgeous. I swallow nervously. There are four gods in the world, and they are all in the same place at the same time, here with me.

Callie turns around with our two drinks, and her eyes instantly widen when she sees who I’m standing with.

“Callie, these are my friends, Jesten, Mason, and Scott,” Brock introduces.

“Hey, Callie.” They smile.

Callie hands me my drink and gives me a look that definitely says holy fucking shit, Tull. I take my drink, thank her, and take a sip.

“Margarita?” Brock asks.

I nod.

He chuckles. “You would get along with my sisters well.”

“Why?”

“They have a slight margarita addiction going on.”

“Me, too.” I smile nervously.

One of his friends goes to the bar.

“So, what have you been doing?” he asks, making conversation.

Fantasising about you. “Nothing really.” I shrug. “Working, keeping busy. What about you?”

“Same. Working, nothing much.” His eyes linger on mine, and it feels like he has something he wants to say. We fall into an awkward silence, and I glance around the club for something to do. Callie is now deep in conversation with Brock’s friend.

God, this is uncomfortable.

I sip my drink, remaining silent.

“I just wanted to…” His voice trails off.

I frown and wait for him to carry on, but he doesn’t. “You wanted to what?”

“I just want you to know that I regret being so…”

I wait.

He shrugs, his words failing him.

“Crazy?” I whisper.

He bites his bottom lip to stifle his smile and nods once.

I smile back.

His eyes rise to meet mine. “I know you don’t like crazy.”

My heart is beating so fast. “I sort of do, but maybe just a little less crazy would have been a good idea.”

“Perhaps.”

“Are you always so crazy with your girlfriends?” He blinks. “Oh, I didn’t mean that I think I was girlfriend.” I put my hand on my chest. Why did I just say that? “That’s not what I meant.” I widen my eyes. “That came out all wrong.”

He breaks into a beautiful smile. “I know what you meant, and no, I haven’t done that before.”

For some stupid reason, I want to know what he hasn’t done before. The sex or the stalking? “What do you mean, you haven’t done that?”

He shrugs, and just for a moment his macho mask slips and he seems embarrassed. “Called someone a hundred times and become jealous to the point of insanity.”

“Then why with me?”

“If I knew why, I wouldn’t be talking to you right now. It’s been on my mind for six weeks.”

The air between us crackles. “You know, you are quite likeable when you act sane, Brock Marx.”

He smiles mischievously. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I sip my drink.

“Likeable enough for you to forget how we met?” he asks.

“Maybe.”

He clinks his beer bottle against my glass. “Let’s start again. Truce?”

I can’t help but grin. “Truce.”

He holds his hand out to shake mine, and I frown, confused when I let him take my hand in his.

“Hello,” he says, as if he’s never met me before.

I smirk. Why does he have to be so cute? “Hello.”

“What’s your name?”

“Tully.” I giggle. “What’s your name?”

“Oh, I’m Brock.”

“Nice to meet you, Brock.”

He bows. “The pleasure is all mine, Tully Pocket.”

Our eyes are locked and electricity is sparking between us.

His friend comes back from the bar with a huge tray of shots, and he passes us all two each.

“What the hell?” I whisper, mortified, and his friends all laugh right on cue.

Brock sinks two of the shots from the tray instantly, his eyes coming back to me.

“I’m going to regret this,” I warn them all.

“Some things are worth regretting.” His eyes hold mine and he gives me the best come fuck me look I’ve ever seen.

I know what he’s talking about, and it isn’t these stupid shots.

“I have no doubt,” I whisper. I pick up the first shot glass and he moves closer. He puts his hand on my hip bone as he stands over me. Oh jeez, what is it about this guy?

There it is. The power that his body has over mine. I swear, his touch, his presence, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever encountered.

I’m completely powerless to it. The moment he touches me, all I want to do is please him. Our eyes lock, and I hold the shot glass as I consider backing out of this drinking challenge. “Do it,” he mouths.