Chapter 6
Hanlon
Ifinally have a day off, but my body is already used to waking up at four a.m.—probably because of the time difference—so I’m dressed and ready to start my day by five.
There’s a CrossFit gym in town, and I’m looking forward to being back in class.
I arrive fifteen minutes early to fill out the waivers and pay for my attendance.
“We’re glad to have you, Hanlon! Men’s changing room is to your right if you need it, lockers are free to use, and check out our protein smoothie bar when class is over,” the girl behind the counter says enthusiastically.
Heading into the locker room, I stash my stuff, strip my sweatpants off, and make my way back out to the gym floor to begin introducing myself to the people who will suffer with me for the next hour.
I’m listening to a girl named Marie talk me through the workout even though I understand everything listed on the whiteboard just fine. People are passionate about this sport, and considering I’ve been to some gyms where they ignore visitors entirely, I welcome the friendly explanation.
Until suddenly, she looks over my shoulder, and her eyes grow wide.
“Stone!” You have got to be fucking kidding me. “I was wondering when your next day off would be. We have a visitor. Come say hi.”
Turning around, I give him a head nod. “Stone.”
“Hanlon,” he says, looking just as annoyed as I feel.
“Oh, so you guys know each other?”
“Unfortunately,” I say with a tight smile. “Marie, it was nice to meet you.”
I move on to talk to a couple of guys standing in the corner I’d love to disappear inside of, but before I can strike up a conversation, our coach enters the gym.
And God, he’s hot.
The girl at the counter must’ve told him a ‘drop-in’ is here because he scans the class until his eyes land on me, and then he makes a beeline toward me with his hand outstretched.
“Hey, man. Welcome. I’m Micah. I’ll be your coach. I saw your check-in forms…you’re not new to the sport and have no problem areas, is that right?”
“Hanlon,” I say, clasping his hand. “And yeah, that’s all correct.”
“Okay, great. Well, we’re glad you’re here.” I think he’s going to leave it there to go get the class started on their warmups, but instead, he asks, “Where are you visiting from?”
“Oh, uh, Vermont.”
“Cool. Never been there myself. Maybe after class, you can tell me more about it?”
I honestly can’t tell whether he’s hitting on me or just being friendly since I’m new, but either way, I’m out here for three months and am already planning on coming back to this gym, so having a friend sounds nice. And yeah, he’s still really fucking hot.
I decide to flirt a little myself…test the waters…take a chance.
“Sure,” I say, shrugging a shoulder. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“Might need longer than five minutes after class, then,” he says, his eyes drifting down my body as he talks.
Bingo.
My time in Ricochet Ridge just got a lot more exciting.
“You’re probably right,” I agree. “And we should probably hydrate while we talk. You know, people keep telling me the air out here is really dry.”
A slow, sexy-as-all-fuck smile spreads across Micah’s lips as his eyes scan me again.
“Yeah. Hydrating sounds good. I’ll grab your number after class.” He claps a hand on my shoulder.
I return his smile and nod. “I’ll be here.”
Am I aware of Stone watching this interaction? Yes. But seeing as Stone isn’t gay, I doubt he could pick up on the direction of the conversation from body language alone.
A minute later, Micah starts the warm-up.
Fifteen minutes after that, the class is instructed to grab our barbells and a jump rope.
Today’s workout: power cleans, double-unders, and toes-to-bar.
Perfect, because I shouldn’t have to modify anything for this one.
I set my barbell down in an open spot on the floor close to the section of the rig I’ll be using, when Stone places his barbell right next to mine.
“What are you doing?” I mutter.
“Working out. What are you doing?”
“I mean, why are you working out right next to me?”
“What are you talking about? This is my spot. I always work out in this spot.”
I roll my eyes at his blatant lie.
“Look, if you’re concerned that my muscles are going to give out and I’m going to crumple to the floor, don’t be. I’ve already been there and done that. Now I know how to pace and modify to stay safe.”
Stone winces, but he stays quiet.
The workout is on a fifteen-minute running clock, and by minute six, shirts are coming off: guys’ and girls’.
We make it to nine minutes before Stone grabs at his hem and rips it overhead.
I freeze. Stone’s topless body is a work of hard-earned fucking art. Every time he lifts the barbell, the muscles in his arms and back flex. When he catches the weight in a quarter squat, his quadriceps and ass pop, and holy fucking shit, this isn’t good.
It’s also shocking. How can I find him attractive and hate his guts at the same time?
Because you don’t hate him, my brain reminds me. You never did.
Even if that’s true, it doesn’t change the fact that Stone is my brother. Step or not, we grew up together. I call his father Dad.
Okay, calm down. It’s fine.
Suddenly, Chase is in my head, lying on the floor. ‘Admit it, Han, if I were into guys, you’d date me.’
Chase definitely isn’t my type…but dark hair, dark eyes, a moody-as-fuck personality, and a physique that’s a solid wall of well-defined muscle?
That sure as fuck is my type.
“Han, what’s wrong?” Stone asks.
Oh God, how long have I been staring?
“Uh, nothing, just giving my fingers a break from all the gripping.”
Stone looks over my shoulder, and his eyes darken, confusing me until I hear Micah’s voice in my ear.
“Hey, guys. Everything okay over here?” he asks in a friendly tone.
“We’re fine. Hanlon’s just shaking it out,” Stone bites.
People continue grunting around us as the barbells clang and the sound of the spinning jump ropes fills the air. Stone stands in a face-off with Micah until I smile at the coach and reassure him that I’m all good.
Then Stone moves on to the jump rope, and I swear I’m ready to crawl in a hole and die as I watch his body. His pecs bounce lightly with the movement, and I absolutely will not look at—oh, fuck. His dick is swinging in his shorts, and it’s impossible to miss.
Deciding it’s better to skip the jump rope myself, I start to make my way to the pull-up bar when Stone yells behind me, “You forgot the double-unders!”
I throw him a middle finger and keep my back to him as I bring my toes to the bar repeatedly.
Wondering where the hell this reaction is coming from, I force myself to push my body harder so I can’t think about anything except trying to catch my next breath and the pain in my screaming muscles.
But the second the workout is done and I’m the crumpled heap on the floor I said I wouldn’t be, I know I’ve fucked up because less than a second later, a shirtless Stone is leaning over me with concern written all over his face.