2. Stasi
two
Stasi
H ow am I supposed to lift this weight with Liam Beckner, sex god and legendary metal guitarist, standing over me?
Muscles flex as he crosses his arms over his broad chest. His dark eyes sear into the very center of my being.
They’re not actually black—I’ve had the luxury, and the travesty, of seeing them up close for most of my life—but in certain lighting, combined with his devastating looks, all of him looks like he was forged in hell itself.
Okay, so he can be scary.
He would be scary had I not known him since the fourth grade.
Sure, I didn’t get to stay close to him like Hail, but sometimes they took pity on me and let me tag along when they played shows at rundown graffiti’d venues or snuck out for a late meal.
Most of the time, though, I admired Liam from a distance. I watched him transform from a scrawny, bruised up kid who struggled to read to this beast of a man, tattooed, pierced, and shrouded in intimidating energy.
He’s got his black hair tied up in a messy bun today. Shorter layers of it have fallen out to frame his face and hide some of the elaborate black and gray tattoos along his thick neck. His brows slightly arch up at the ends, adding to his overall image that screams danger.
And possibly the best orgasm you’ll ever have.
That’s just my assumption, though. I wouldn’t know from experience.
Rolling my body down onto the bench, my gaze snags on the pointed canines he reveals with a flash of a wicked grin. Hot blood rushes through my body.
Not helping my workout.
Had I dealt with that gym bro faster, Liam wouldn’t have even bothered walking over here. For the most part, he leaves me alone. Occasionally, he confuses my brain with flirtations I know don’t hold any weight because Liam doesn’t date.
He fucks .
I should have picked a different gym. I knew the vibes were off as soon as I walked in, but considering this place is across the street from my apartment and getting anywhere in Dallas is a pain in the ass, I thought I was doing myself a favor by saving time and gas.
Liam leans over the bar, putting his face right above mine. “You good?”
And there goes my heart rate all over again. I’m gonna need medical intervention soon.
I do my best to shove him from my mind, but it’s hard when his powerful thighs are right beside my head and his sleeveless black shirt is cut wide enough on the sides to show off what he’s working with—a thick trunk of a body cut with too many abs for him to be human.
Don’t look at his dick. Don’t do it, Stas.
Swallowing, I grip the bar and adjust my body position. If I can’t lift this, I’m proving those guys right and Liam wrong.
Liam stands back and tucks his hands into his pockets, not even pretending to spot me. Better him than a stranger stepping in trying to tell me what I’m capable of. I’m already well aware of my limitations. There’s no need for anyone else to add to the negativity circling like vultures in my head.
Speaking of vultures, I haven’t heard back from my mom.
She’d asked if I planned on attending dad’s family work event at the country club this coming Sunday, and I’d explained that my appearance depends solely on whether or not they invited Hail.
Not that I expect him to go, but if they can’t accept my brother for who he is, then I need to reconsider if I want them in my life.
I’ve given them plenty of time to adjust to the news of him dating a man.
Sensing multiple pairs of eyes on me, I lift the bar from the rack. I don’t know what it is about me that screams “weak” to others, but I’m getting kind of sick of it.
The bar glides down to my chest easily enough. It’s pushing it back up that has my arms quivering and my teeth clenching.
God, this is heavy.
Five reps in, and I’m breathing hard. Toxic thoughts creep out of the cages I’ve shut them in, seeking purchase in my mind.
Life was supposed to get easier when I finished my DPT program, passed my NPTE, and completed a neurologic physical therapy residency. I’m several months into a career at a renowned inpatient rehabilitation center.
But now there’s student loan debt to pay back. And family drama. And finding a house that doesn’t cost my soul to afford. Rent is bad enough as it is…
Eventually I’m going to have to figure out dating because I don’t want to spend my life alone.
“Three more. You got this. Shut those fuckers up,” Liam murmurs.
Fire sparks in my chest. I don’t care about those guys anymore. I only care what Liam thinks. I care about him more than I’m willing to admit .
The weight gets stuck a few inches above my chest. Liam uses one hand to take some of the pressure off my arms. With his other hand, he slips a wireless headphone into my ear. I recognize the chugging guitar instantly, having heard it through my bedroom wall almost every night growing up.
“New stuff?” I ask, eyes widening.
His mouth quivers, teasing me with a grin. “New stuff. Get to it.”
He removes his hand, and I push through the last three reps, letting the heavy guitars and pounding drums power me through the pain in my muscles.
Maria, the vocalist who replaced my brother when he shifted into Liam’s empty spot as lead guitarist, absolutely destroys . She may not have the lower register like my brother, but her highs are bone-chilling. Demonic .
I sit up and give the song the attention it deserves as I catch my breath. When it ends, I pop the earbud out and hand it back to Liam. He keeps those eyes on me, heavy and expectant. “Well?”
“It’s good.”
His dark eyes glint before he narrows them at me. I can’t help a little laugh and a soft eye roll. “You know I’m not your target audience, right?”
“You telling me we subjected you to over two decades of metal music and you don’t even like the genre?”
“I’m supportive, but yeah. It’s not for me.”
The side of his mouth twitches. “Fair enough.”
I don’t want him to feel obligated to babysit me at the gym, so I give him an out. “Thanks for the spot.”
He pulls out his phone, leaning over the barbell to fiddle with it. “You’ve got two more sets before you get rid of me. ”
I’d rather not get rid of him ever , but that’s an inside thought. I’m surprised he’s allowed me and Hail to stay in his life as long as he has.
No one else seems to make the cut.
People on social media either recognize Liam as a musical genius or label him an egotistical asshole. They don’t understand the broken boy he hides, and I don’t think he wants them to.
“If I’m doing two more sets, then so are you,” I say, wriggling out of my hoodie.
With Liam’s presence, I don’t have to worry about anyone else bothering me, and I’d rather not pass out from the heat rolling in through the cracked garage door along the side of the gym.
His eyes flick up from his phone, and my heart misfires as he takes his time looking me over.
Okay . Maybe removing the hoodie was a bad idea. I’ve worked hard on my body, but I’m far from perfect. I have blemishes and scars and stretch marks from growing too fast through puberty.
I’m nothing like the women Liam Beckner would have entertained on tours.
His tone is husky when he replies, “What if it’s not my arm day?”
“You were doing bicep curls, tricep pulls, and shoulder presses. Of course it’s your arm day.” I pop up from the bench and motion to the space I’ve created for him.
Liam chuckles. It’s barely a sound. A soft, low noise that settles between my legs. “You been watching me, Anastasia?”
“You’re hard to miss,” I admit.
He encroaches into my space, the heat from his massive body seeping into me. I’m taller than the average woman and carved with lean muscle, but he makes me feel small. Breakable inside and out .
Damn it, the man does scare me. When I think about him touching me or kissing me, my knees threaten to give out. I’m not sure I’d survive him. Only because I’d crave more than he’d ever be willing to give.
A heavy sigh escapes me. He gently bumps my shoulder with his own as he moves to the bench and lays down, his big, tattooed hands gripping the bar.
“Oh, hell no. You think I’m going to let you get off easy?” I say.
Liam raises a curious brow. Grinning, I hurry over to the weight rack, striding right through another group of gym bros to grab more steel plates. Though I feel judging gazes on me, I’m more confident with Liam in my corner. More like me than when I’m alone.
Liam watches me patiently as I load the plates onto the bar. Once I’m done, I clap my hands together. “Better.”
But it’s not better. Not when Liam handles the two-hundred seventy-five pounds beautifully, muscles shifting under inked scenes of angels and demons locked in a bloody, eternal battle on his skin. Defined abs crunch beneath the worn scrap of fabric that can’t even be called a shirt.
I can see the outline of his cock beneath his sweats. There’s no ignoring it. And there’s no way it couldn’t be hard right now. The size…
Good lord, he melts all the intelligent thoughts in my brain. Accepting the invite to his house was a bad idea. It feels like the foreshadowing of regret. Or inevitable heartbreak.
But the idea of spending the night by myself in my apartment is way worse.
When Liam sits up and swings his legs around so he can look at me, I stick out a hand to demand his other earbud. “If you’re going to put me to shame like that, I’m going to find ways to pick apart your recording.”
Smirking, Liam rises to his full height and moves closer. Nerves fire as his calloused fingers trail up my neck. My breath catches .
He wraps his hand under my jaw and eases my head to the side. I don’t fight him. I don’t want to. At this moment, I exist for him alone. A puppet on strings only he controls.
His mouth lowers to the shell of my ear, hot breath fanning over my skin. “I expect a full critique when I’m done making you sweat.”
He places the earbud in my hand, then steps away. I fail to hide a full-body shudder.
Suddenly, I can think of a lot more interesting ways to get in our workout.