Gym Junkie

I tip my head back and feel the heat of the Tequila slide down my throat.

I lick my lips as I stare at him, and I am instantly taken back to the night in the bathroom when he was daring me to take his body. This man is the peer pressure king.

“Again,” he mouths.

I lick my lips, and he squeezes my hipbone with his fingers. I tip my head back and drink it again.

“Good girl,” he whispers in my ear.

I close my eyes as the heat rolls down my throat. I’m dizzy, and it’s not because of the drinks. It’s because of his electric touch.

What I would give to have a do over with him? In a bed, alone, with no interruptions. I mean, it wouldn’t technically be any worse than what I’ve already done, because it’s the same guy. Would it?

I go over the scenario in my head to try and justify it to myself.

Callie and Brock’s friends seem to hit it off instantly. After a few moments they move to the dance floor to dance.

Brock’s hand slides down to my behind, and he leans down to whisper in my ear. “I have a confession to make.”

“What?” I whisper as I concentrate on not reaching up and putting my arms around his neck. How is it that I feel instantly connected to this guy? We don’t even know each other, but somehow I feel like a I do.

“I came here tonight looking for you.”

I smile, pressed against his face as excitement runs through me. “You did?”

He nods, and his hand squeezes my behind.

“What are you going to do now that you’ve found me?” I stare up at his lips.

“Show you a few things.”

I smile darkly. God, I like the sound of that. “Like what?” I breathe. I get a vision of him flashing himself to me and I can’t help but grin. “Are you going to flash me?”

He chuckles in surprise. “Possibly.” His hand squeezes my behind again and I feel my arousal start to thump. “Although I must admit, I’m a bit wary of where to start.”

I look up at him.

“I don’t want to scare you off. You do seem to have impossibly high expectations.”

“Maybe you should try being a gentleman,” I whisper in his ear.

He grabs me aggressively on the behind. “I’m no gentleman, Tully.”

My heart hammers as I stare into the depths of his eyes.

This is it, the moment where I have to set him straight. If I put up with him saying he will never be a gentleman, then I can’t complain when he isn’t one.

“You’ll need to learn how to be a gentleman with me, Brock, because I’m not a slut. And I’m most definitely not easy.”

Our eyes are locked and he clenches his jaw. It’s as if there is nobody else in the club, just us. “What are you saying?” he whispers, and I feel his warm breath dust my ear.

“I’m saying that I would like you to dance with me.”

“I don’t dance.”

“Learn.”

“I don’t learn things that don’t interest me.”

My eyes search his, and I lift my chin in annoyance. “Okay, there’s my answer.” I try to walk away, but he grabs my hand.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I’m going to dance, and for the record, if you don’t want to learn things that interest me than I have no interest in learning yours.”

“I’m not ready to dance yet.”

“I am.” I turn and walk to the dance floor just as a song comes on that I love. I meet Callie and Brock’s friends and I begin to dance with them.

I glance over to see Brock standing where I left him with an annoyed look on his face.

Oh well, tough shit. I asked him to dance and he knocked me back.

He doesn’t dance… pfft. So, does he think I should stand next to him like a little puppet all night?

For the next two hours, I drink way too many cocktails and shots, and I dance with Callie, as well as a few different people. I bounce between Meredith and her new friends, Brock’s friends and Callie, and I have no intention of going back to talk to Brock who is standing in the exact same place near the bar. Every time I look his way, there’s a different girl trying to pick him up.

Ugh. It really is annoying that he is so good looking.

“Isn’t this the best time ever?” Meredith cries as she bounces up to me. We’ve hardly seen her all night.

“It is. Who is that guy you’re talking to?” I ask.

“He used to live in our building. He moved out a year ago. His name is Rick.”

I feel large hands slink around my waist from behind, and I turn to see Brock standing there.

“Hello,” I say, slightly taken aback. He’s been glaring at me all night.