13. 13
13
I’m perched on the edge of the chair in my small office, watching the monitor as Ryan Pierce makes his way down to the ring. My heart is racing, and I don’t know if it’s because of the match—or because of what happened between us earlier. He looks incredible, like always, his wet hair hanging loosely over his muscular shoulders, water droplets clinging to his skin. Every step he takes exudes raw power, and I can’t tear my eyes away from the screen, away from him.
I let out a slow breath, trying to calm my nerves. Professional , I remind myself, but I can’t stop the thoughts running wild in my head. I grab my phone and call Annika, needing someone to talk to, someone to help me make sense of all this. She picks up after the second ring.
“Hey, girl! What’s up?” Annika’s voice is chipper, like always, but I can already hear the playful undertone creeping in.
I sink back into the seat as the match begins. “You were right,” I blurt out, my voice barely above a whisper. “Ryan Pierce is absolutely gorgeous. He has muscles in places, I didn’t even know one could have muscles. And now that I've touched him, I can't stop thinking about him, Annika.”
There’s a beat of silence before Annika bursts into laughter. “ Finally , she admits it! What took you so long? He’s like… walking sex on legs. Wait, what do you mean, you touched him? Like touched him touched him, or massaged him?”
I groan, rolling my eyes even though she can’t see me. “I know, I know. But I need to stay away from him. And i gave him a massage, get your mind out of the gutter."
Annika hums, clearly unconvinced. “Mmm, do you, though? You’ve got eyes. Why not enjoy the view while it lasts? What fun would staying away be anyway?”
I sigh, watching Ryan in the ring, the way he moves, the sheer athleticism and grace in every punch, every slam. “It’s not just that,” I admit. “There was… a moment. Earlier, in my office. He got so close—like, really close.”
Annika gasps, and I can practically hear the grin in her voice. “Tell me everything.”
I feel my face heat up, but I don’t hold back. “He was right there, inches away. I thought he was going to kiss me, and honestly, I was going to let him. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m supposed to be a professional, but when he looks at me like that, I just—”
“You melt,” Annika finishes for me, her voice teasing.
“Yes!” I shake my head, frustrated with myself. “And then, he just… jumped up and left. Like, a minute into the massage. It was weird, like he couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”
“ Interesting ,” Annika muses, dragging the word out. “You’re not the only one feeling this, Nat. I bet he’s got it bad for you too.”
I let out a soft laugh, but I can’t help the butterflies in my stomach. “He’s Ryan Pierce, Annika. And I’m… me. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who gets hung up on anyone.”
“Maybe not usually,” she agrees, “but you’re not just anyone. There’s obviously tension between you two.”
I open my mouth to respond when I wince, watching the monitor. “Ooh,” I mutter, biting my lip. “He just took a nasty hit.”
Annika laughs on the other end. “Oh, boy, you’re in trouble ,” she teases. “Watching his matches now? You’re way more invested than you realize.”
I make a face, even though I know she’s right. “I’m not—okay, maybe a little. But still, it doesn’t mean anything.”
Annika snorts. “Sure it doesn’t. You can tell yourself that all you want, but you’re basically drooling over the guy. Admit it.”
I huff, sinking deeper into the chair. “Fine. I admit it. He’s gorgeous, okay? But it doesn’t matter. I need to focus on my job.”
There’s a pause on the line, and Annika’s voice softens. “I get it, Nat. I really do. But it’s okay to want something for yourself too. You don’t always have to be so serious.”
“I know,” I say quietly, my eyes still glued to the screen as Ryan’s match unfolds. “But this job… it’s my way out. I can’t mess it up by getting involved with anyone, especially not him.”
“Fair enough,” she says with a sigh. “Just don’t let yourself miss out on something good because you’re afraid, okay? That’s all I’m saying.”
I nod, though she can’t see me, and the conversation drifts into easier topics—her weekend plans, her latest obsession with some new yoga class. But my mind is stuck on Ryan.
Later, after the match, I’m heading out of the arena, walking toward the parking lot to catch my Uber back to the hotel. The night air is cool against my skin, and I wrap my jacket tighter around me as I start scrolling through my phone, thinking about all the things I need to get ready for tomorrow.
I hear footsteps approaching, and when I glance up, I see Travis heading toward me, his gym bag slung over his shoulder. He has short, glossy blonde hair styled in a perfect swoop, the kind that makes him look effortlessly put together. His face is chiseled, with a bit of stubble across his angular jaw, and his lean, muscular frame moves with an easy confidence. But it’s his eyes that stand out the most—soft and kind, like he’s the type of guy who’s quick to laugh and even quicker to offer a helping hand.
I’ve only met Travis once before, but it’s obvious how close he and Ryan are. There’s an easy camaraderie between them that speaks of years of friendship.
“Hey,” he greets me with a friendly smile, his voice warm and casual. “Have you seen Ryan anywhere? I lost track of him after the match.”
I shake my head, forcing a smile. “No, I haven’t seen him since he, uh… left my office earlier.”
Travis raises an eyebrow, his smile turning sly as he adjusts the strap of his bag. “Oh yeah? Left your office, huh?”
I feel my cheeks heat up. “Not like that. He just… didn’t stick around for his appointment. It was weird.”
“Ryan’s a weird guy sometimes,” Travis says with a shrug, though there’s a knowing glint in his eyes. “But he’ll come around. Anyway, I’ll see you around, Natalie. Don’t let him scare you off.”
I watch him walk away, his easy gait making it hard to tell if he was joking or genuinely offering advice. Once he’s out of sight, I finally let myself breathe.
Heading back to the hotel, I try to push thoughts of Ryan out of my mind, but they come crashing back as soon as I’m alone in my room.
I can’t stop thinking about him—about the way he felt pressed against me earlier, the heat of his body, the way his hands had brushed against my skin. It was like an electric current between us, and now, even after he’s gone, I still feel the pull.
I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, but all I can see is his face. His scent lingers in my mind, the memory of his touch teasing me in ways I don’t want to admit. I close my eyes, trying to shut it all out, but it’s no use.
God, what am I going to do?