9. Dante
CHAPTER 9
Dante
I grunted and heaved the heavy bar up from my chest as Murph spotted me from above. Well, he primarily worked on spotting the few women stopping by to use the inner thigh machine, but he’d probably be able to catch the bar if I lost complete control. Maybe.
“Take it easy, man. You don’t want to sprain anything.” Murph eased his hands under the bar and moved it back to the rack. “You’re going all out today. Was that a new record?”
“Something like that.” I sat up on the hard bench. My mind wouldn’t let go of the image of Faith standing in my bathroom in a towel the other night. Something about her got under my skin. Unable to distract myself, I’d decided to take advantage of my access to campus facilities and pound the thoughts out of my mind at the gym.
I stood up to let Murph take his turn on the bench. He grabbed the bar with his hands and tried to push up. “Um, maybe you can just take ten off each side?”
“Sure.” I popped the clip open and adjusted the weight. As I leaned down to put the weights back on the rack, I caught a glimpse of a familiar head of dark red hair. Shit.
Faith sat at a leg press machine about ten feet away. She strained to extend her legs, her fingers wrapping around the handles at her sides. The heavy stack of weights she was working was pretty impressive. She had on a tiny little top with a loose tank over it and some clingy short black pants. While I stared, a drop of sweat rolled down the cleft between her breasts and disappeared into her hot pink sports bra.
“Fuck me,” I grunted, adjusting the front of my baggy gym shorts.
“Hey, are you ready?” Murph asked, drawing my attention back to the chest press.
“Yeah, sorry.” I put my hands under the bar and helped Murph ease it off the rack and down to his chest.
“Something catch your eye over there?” Murph struggled to push the bar up over his head.
“Just some girl I met the other night.”
“A girl, huh? You get any?” Murph exhaled and did another rep.
I ignored Murph’s question and let my gaze travel back to Faith. She grabbed a towel and wiped it across her temple, her neck, and then her chest.
“Jesus Christ,” I growled, taking my glasses off for a moment and rubbing my hand across my face.
Murph lifted his head to follow my gaze across the room. “Shit, bro. Do you know who that is?”
I pulled my eyes away and glanced down at Murph. “Yeah, her name is Faith. She teaches in the English department with you, right?”
Murph laughed. “Don’t even try to tap that, my friend. She’s locked up tighter than Fort Knox. I’ve been working that for years. Nada, dude.”
My eyes narrowed as I studied Murph’s face. He could be a real asshole. “She’s a friend of yours?”
“Not exactly. We share an office. I’ve been shot down by her more times than I can count. She’s nice enough, but those waters aren’t just cold, dude, they’re fucking frigid.”
“Nice, asshole. Maybe if you weren’t such a dick and treated her with a little more respect, she might not blow you off all the time.” I wasn’t interested in swimming in any kind of water around Faith, much less the frigid variety. But why the hell was she popping up again? How many mornings did I meet Murph at the gym, and I’d never run across her before? I was pretty damn sure I’d have remembered.
Her skimpy little sports bra stuck out like a beacon in a sea of testosterone-filled athletic shorts and stinky tank tops. Women usually worked out on the other side of campus in the new space with all the Nautilus machines.
“A little help here?” Murph groaned, and I pulled my attention away from Faith again, helping Murph settle the heavy bar back on the rack. “You working biceps today?”
“Nah, I think I’ll run for a while.” Faith had moved over to jog on a treadmill. I walked over to the machines and stepped onto the one next to her.
Faith
I looked over, a scowl on my face. Of all the empty machines in the room, and some guy had to pick the one right next to mine?
“Oh, it’s you,” I said, noticing Dante.
“Yeah, nice to see you again too.” He pushed the button, increasing his pace.
I sped up, breaking out of my jog into a full-fledged run. Too bad we weren’t outside where I might have a chance of actually outrunning him. The last thing I needed was more face-to-face time with the man who’d been haunting my dreams.
I’d tried declaring thoughts of Dante as off-limits, but my head kept going there… again and again and again. And now here he was in the flesh—a distracting mountain of muscled, tempting, eye candy flesh.
“Thanks again for letting me use your shower the other night. I’ll get your clothes back to you as soon as I have a chance to wash them.”
“No rush. Sorry again about getting us locked in the storeroom.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I glanced over at him, taking in the loose-fitting tank top. My gaze lingered on his well-defined biceps before roving down to appreciate what I could see of his abs from the side. What did the rest of him look like? No matter how much I tried not to, my imagination had been doing a pretty good job of filling in the details since I’d last seen him.
The sight of so much exposed skin on the machine next to me sent my pulse into overdrive. Beads of sweat broke out on my forehead, and I wiped them away with my towel.
“So, you come here often?” he asked, matching my pace.
“Really?”
“What?” He turned his head my way.
“Are you trying to pick me up with your best line?”
He chuckled, sending a rush of warmth to my chest. “No. Definitely not.”
“Wow, you don’t have to be so firm about it.” I cringed as the word “firm” left my lips. Please don’t let him crack a joke at my choice of words. Maybe my mind operated in the gutter, but I could twist just about anything into sounding like something dirty without much effort at all.
“Firm?” Brow raised, he nudged his speed up a notch.
I groaned. Nope, not getting away with that one. “I just meant?—”
“Look, you made it pretty clear the other night you weren’t pickupable.”
“Forget it.” Pickupable? My internal English snob stuck her nose in the air, ready to dismiss the conversation altogether.
“Let’s try again. I haven’t seen you working out at the gym before.” He lifted his chin, indicating the expectation of a response.
“I usually run outside, but I tweaked something last week and figured some weightlifting might help strengthen my legs.”
“Well, that explains it.” Dante nodded.
“Explains what?”
“Take a look around. See anyone else working out in a bikini?”
What a dick. I furrowed my brow and scanned the room. So what if I was one of only a handful of women in a room full of serious lifters? “It’s a free country, right?”
At that moment, Murph walked over to the treadmills and put his hand on the front of my machine. “Hey, Faith, I see you’ve met my friend Dante.”
Wonderful. Nothing could make this moment more awkward than adding another bundle of testosterone. “Hi Murph. Yeah, we, um, actually met the other night,” I said.
“The other night, huh?” Murph narrowed his eyes.
“She and her friends stopped in at the bar,” Dante said.
Murph’s frown lifted slightly at the corners. “Of course. Dante’s new part-time job as an illustrious barkeep has him fighting off the babes. You’ve only been there, what, three weeks so far? How many desperate women have you had to turn down?”
Dante shot a dark look Murph’s way. “Very funny, Murph.”
I let my machine slow down before I hopped off. “I think I’d rather just run outside today. See you guys around.”
Before either one of them had a chance to respond, I picked up my water bottle and pulled my hoodie on over my head. It was like watching a cock fight about to take place. Murph was strutting his stuff, just begging for Dante to take him down a notch or two. Dante had shrugged on a dark and dangerous attitude.
It was time for me to go. I wasn’t a betting gal, but if I had to put money down on one of them, I’d definitely back Dante.
Betting on Dante... that gave me an idea for a scene I’d been struggling with in my latest manuscript. I pushed through the doors of the gym and took a full breath of clean, fresh air into my lungs.
I’d damn well not let that guy get under my skin, but in my desperation to add word count, I’d eagerly take advantage of any new scenes he might inspire. As long as he stayed on the pages of my novel, where I could make sure he didn’t get too close.
My feet struck the pavement as I turned toward home, eager to get my fingers back on the keyboard of my laptop… excited to explore a version of Dante I could control.