Breaking Beast (Pounding Hearts 4)

Knocked off balance, I cry out but catch myself at the last moment. Before I can retaliate, Alex laughs and takes off running.

I can’t just let him get away with that.

“Hey!” I yell out, chasing after him. “You’re going to pay for that, Old Man!”

“Bring it, Runt!” he yells out and speeds off.

Muffin yaps happily, looking between us, but ultimately she decides to catch up with him.

With the two of them so far ahead of me it gives me a target to focus on. I drop my chin and pump my knees as fast as I can, but Alex runs twice as fast as he did yesterday and I seriously struggle to catch up to them.

Even the dog is beating me, and I’m not sure if it’s because they were taking it easy on me yesterday or if today I just suck ass.

About halfway through the lap, Alex seems to take pity on me and his pace slows.

Coming up beside him, Alex glances over at me with some concern and asks, “Are you okay?”

I know I must look like a hot mess. I’m breathing loudly and I’m already drenched in sweat. I also know I’m going to regret pushing myself this hard tonight when Dale gets his hands on me, but I just can’t let Alex win. It goes against every one of my instincts.

Rolling my eyes, I reach over and give him a little shove.

He stumbles and yells out. “Fuck!”

I laugh and run ahead of him. “Payback is a bitch!”

The rest of the lap I manage to stay in front of Alex but I suspect it’s only because he’s letting me do it. By the time I see his house on the horizon, I’m so pooped I’m ready to pass out right then and there.

My pace slows a little early to a fast walk and once again I have to put my hands on my thighs and bend forward to catch my breath.

When I glance up, I get an eyeful of Alex’s ripped, glistening abdomen as he uses his shirt to wipe the sweat off of his face.

I can’t look away. My eyes flow over each bulging ridge, tracing all of his lines and grooves. I zoom in on the waistband of his shorts. I want to pull it down. I want to see what he’s packing.

I don’t look away fast enough. His shirt drops and I look up in surprise. His dark eyes catch mine and hold me.

I was struggling to catch my breath and now I can’t breathe. My lungs freeze behind my ribs.

We stare at each other and I don’t know what to say. Fuck. Should I apologize? He must think I’m such a pervert.

“I’ve got to get ready for work,” I blurt out and run into the house.

* * *

I’m a coward. I could have apologized to Alex. I could have stuck around to see what he had to say. Instead, I ran away like a scaredy-cat. And now I’m scared to death to go back downstairs to face him at breakfast.

How can I ever look him in the eye again?

After a long, lukewarm shower, I’ve cooled myself down physically but I just can’t get the picture of him out of my head.

There’s something about him that makes me feel both uneasy and tingling with excitement.

When I think of his body, and all the skin I’ve yet to glimpse, I get this strange knot twisting deep in my stomach and I have the strongest urge to do something about it.

But what?

Fuck if I know. This is all virgin territory for me, both figuratively and literally.

Digging my cellphone out of my backpack, I desperately check it, hoping there’s a text from Nicole, but I have zero messages. She must not be back from her dad’s yet.

Dammit.

If I don’t head downstairs soon I’m going to be late for work. I guess there’s nothing else to do but face the music. Packing all my stuff up, I sling my backpack over my shoulder and head down.

Alex is in the kitchen, still cooking up breakfast. He nods at me from behind the stove as I walk in and points to a plate on the table. “That’s yours.”

I pause for a moment, waiting for him to remark on my ogling of him but he doesn’t mention it.

I guess we’re just going to pretend it didn’t happen, and I’m totally good with that.

Walking over to the table, I eye the plate and then shoot him a confused look. “That’s too much.”

“I’m sure you can manage it,” he says, looking over at me before focusing back on his bacon.

With a sigh, I drop down to my seat and rest my bag against the chair. Picking up my fork, I eye the pile of scrambled eggs he gave me.

“Is this payback for pushing you earlier?” I ask, scooping up a bite.