Breaking the Rules: The Breaking Series #1 Page 7

  Except she wasn’t a date. She was Eddie’s sister. A friend, maybe, at this point. A friend he had almost kissed and was dying to kiss. But just that. Nothing more.

  He checked the wall clock again as he listened to the trainers talk about their plans for the next quarter. A little bit longer before they broke for lunch, and then he’d be free to fret in peace.

  “What about the community events?” Travis rifled through his papers. “Are we still looking into the discounted cardio classes for nonmembers?” It was part PR stunt, part community service. Got his name out while also helping out, once a month here at the gym.

  The trainers exchanged glances, Lex included. “Planning on it. The second Wednesday of every month.”

  He nodded, checking off an item on his list, lingering as some half-formed thoughts burbled near the surface. Ever since Amara had called him out about the self-defense-class approach, he’d been eager to reintegrate it into their lineup.

  “We should offer self-defense classes again,” Travis blurted, underlining something on his sheet.

  “Seriously?” Trainer Geo lifted a brow. “Those tanked the last time we did them.”

  “Right. Because we charged for them. They should be free this time.” The words rolled off his tongue surprisingly easily. Maybe it didn’t have to all be about insane profit.

  All the trainers at the table looked at him with wide eyes. Must have been more of a departure from his MO than usual.

  “We’ll take turns teaching it. I’ll pay you for the time, obviously. But it needs to be a consistent service.” Travis nodded, feeling good about the decision. Agreement rippled through the staff room.

  After a few more matters were addressed, the meeting broke, and Travis bolted for the gym. He needed to zone out. The restlessness that had plagued him all day was exhausting him. He wasn’t used to feeling so skittish…probably because he hadn’t felt this way about a woman in a long time.

  And he couldn’t even remember the last time it had hit him like this. He headed for the indoor track at the back of the building. Laps would do him good. Let him check out and refocus.

  Was he into Amara? The thought was scary. If he was seriously into her—which, he fucking was—then this shit would get really sticky, really fast. And how could he get out of it?

  He found a steady pace, eyes focused on the track in front of him. Run it off. Just run it off.

  If she were anyone else, he’d have had her in bed by now. Or at least heading over to his place on the regular. The fact that he had to not only put on the brakes, but get into a different car altogether was infuriating, a type of frustration he hadn’t imagined possible.

  He could eat her alive, if he were allowed. And his excitement at seeing her today was worrisome. Really worrisome.

  A half hour faded into a blur as he made laps, his thoughts receding into a pleasant hum in the background. When an assistant waved at him from the doorway, he knew that meant Eddie and Amara had arrived.

  He jogged over to where he’d left his shirt and picked up his sweat towel, wiping off his face as he headed toward the front. A burst of cool air in the hallway chilled his sweaty skin. Slinging his towel and T-shirt over his shoulder, he entered the reception area. Eddie’s eyes lit up when he saw him; Amara’s gaze turned curious and shy.

  “Buddy. Working overtime today.”

  Travis high-fived Eddie and then Amara. Her gaze traveled up and down his body. “Just realized I hadn’t taken a run in a while. Are we ready for squats today?”

  “Born ready.” Eddie followed him into the weight room, Amara trailing behind. Were her eyes burning a hole in his body, or was that his imagination? He knew he drew looks, but something about Amara confused him. Clearly she liked what she saw, even made it a sport to tease or tempt him, but why would she try if she knew Eddie would flip? It didn’t make sense. Unless the only sense to be made was that she felt like he did—incapable of controlling the attraction.

  He tugged his T-shirt on once he’d cooled down enough. Something about wandering shirtless in his own gym, while his own overblown, shirtless Playgirl portraits hovered on the walls felt like overkill.

  “Let’s do warm-ups.” He led them both to the same corner as always. A couple of beefheads lingered nearby, gathered around a bench press. Immediately he could sense that Amara piqued their interest.

  “Just some gentle squats.” Mostly for Amara’s sake, he demonstrated the exact move he wanted to start with. Butt out, knees bent, slow and steady. From most people’s perspective, it was either hilarious or totally hot. The guys behind her turned their attention to the trio.

  “Five more.” Travis kept his eyes on the guys, who strutted behind Amara like proud cocks, feathers flared. Eddie must have noticed his focused attention; he turned to follow his gaze, seeing the dudes.

  “Move along,” Eddie said to the audience, not breaking his warm-up. Amara rolled her eyes.

  She probably thought it was overprotectiveness on Eddie’s behalf, but Travis felt something more there. Yellow flags were dropping already. Avoiding drama was the primary goal in his gym, but he had to be on his toes for the slightest misstep.

  “She can keep moving along,” one of the meatheads muttered. “Right over to my place after her workout.”

  Eddie snapped up, turning to face the guys. “That’s my little sister. Watch what you say there, idiot.”

  Travis’s forearms prickled. Amara sighed, turning to look at the guys, then at Eddie. “Ignore them. Come on.”

  The blond meathead who made the comment made a kissy face at Amara, though neither Eddie nor Amara saw it. Travis narrowed his gaze at him—one of the newer additions to the dosing group, a guy he didn’t have much experience with. Not a good first impression.

  “Keep it moving.” Travis abandoned the warm-up session and trailed the guys. “No harassing female clients while in the weight room. It’s in the welcome manual, which I assume you’ve read.”

  The meathead huffed but retreated to the far side. Travis came back to his friends; Eddie glared at the guys while Amara looked annoyed.

  “Seriously.” Eddie didn’t break eye contact with the far side of the room. “That asshole is asking for it.”

  “Forget him.” Travis clapped his hands. “Next set: lunges.”

  He and Amara and Eddie moved into some easy reps. By the end of the warm-ups, Travis had joked and cajoled them into a lighthearted mood again. The dudes kept to themselves on the far side, though Travis didn’t stop checking on them. He sent Eddie to the seated press and brought Amara to the floor-length mirror in the middle of the wall.

  “Here’s the shitty part about today,” Travis said. “You’re gonna sweat a lot.”

  “Maybe I like that part,” she countered. “You wouldn’t believe how much I’m beginning to look forward to these sessions.”

  Same here. “Those are the words every trainer wants to hear.”

  She grinned. “Lay it on me, Trav.” She pushed at his shoulder, which made him laugh. “Make me sweat.”

  His mind rocked into high gear. He had a thousand different ways he could make her sweat. Most of them being sexual. Focus. Weight training.

  “We’re going back to the lunges. But with weights this time.” He grabbed five-pound dumbbells from the rack and handed them to her, noticing the blond meathead circling the perimeter again. “Do the lunge as slowly as you can. I’ll watch your form to make sure you don’t overextend. We want your ass to burn.”

  She laughed, kicking out her feet a little to prepare. “Great. Flaming ass. Just what I always wanted.”

  He crossed his arms and grinned, watching as she lowered herself into a worthy lunge. The curve of her ass into hamstring was mesmerizing, practically fine art; this was one of the highest perks of his job, being able to admire the human form in movement. Especially on someone as fine as Amara. He licked his lips involuntarily as he watched.

  “Looks like someone knows how to move.” The blond meath
ead cackled as he walked by, ogling Amara’s ass. “Baby, can I get your number?”

  Anger flashed across Eddie’s face, and he leaped up from the seated press, storming toward the guy with his chest out.

  “You don’t talk to my sister like that. You were already told once, man.”

  “Eddie.” Travis jerked his head to the side. “Let me handle it.” His friend could fly off the handle, and then where would they be? Too easily this guy could stain his reputation.

  “Yeah, let the big bad boss man handle it.” The meathead’s chest swelled, his gaze ablaze on Eddie. Provocation at its finest. Alarm bells rang in Travis’s head. Eddie would snap—just what the dude wanted. Amara stilled herself midlunge, resting on a knee, her wide eyes, confused and fearful, on him.

  Travis stepped in front of the meathead as he approached Eddie with daggers in his eyes, lifting his hand. “Come on. Let’s cool it, guys.”

  “Man, fuck you.” Eddie called out over Travis’s shoulder.

  “You mean what your sister will be doing later?” The blond sneered, shouldering his way past Travis to push at Eddie. Eddie stumbled backward.

  Rage stormed Eddie’s face, and he swung at the meathead. Travis intercepted it, pushing Eddie off to the side. “Eddie, cool it.” But the dude retaliated quickly, lunging past him and socking Eddie in the side.

  Travis spun around, hooking his arm around the dude’s neck and tightening it as much as he could. The guy was like a rhinoceros: angry and bulky and with plenty of momentum. He lurched and grasped at Travis’s arm but didn’t get far.

  Travis tried to drag the meathead away from his friend, who was ready to pummel the guy. “Eddie, stay cool. Come on, guys. Chill out.”

  The blond guy struggled against Travis; though he was physically bigger than Travis, he wasn’t nearly as trained. His friends formed a tight ring around them, and some of Travis’s trainers hurried into the weight room once they spotted the commotion. Lex appeared at the periphery, watching with fiery eyes.

  The blond swung around, and Travis stumbled, loosening his grip. When the blond almost escaped, Travis kneed him under his ass and brought him to the ground. He pinned him with a grunt, holding his forearm over the back of his head.

  “Don’t fucking move,” he growled. “You don’t fucking talk to my clients like that. I told you two times already. And that was your last fucking time.”

  “Bunch of pussies here.” The blond guy cackled despite being pinned. It came out a weak whinny. “They told me this place was weak, but I thought I’d give it a shot. Looks like I was wrong.”

  “Go find someplace else. Immediately.” Travis looked up to see Eddie pacing the far wall, Amara pleading with him. “When I let you go, you leave. Do you hear me?”

  “Fine. Pussy.”

  Travis pressed his forearm against the guy’s skull until he groaned. “You want me to smash your skull in front of your friends?”

  The guy attempted to laugh, but it came out a cough. “Go ahead and try.”

  “Looks like you’re on a lot of drugs.” Travis increased his pressure. “You want to fuck up your life, then fine. Just don’t do it in my gym. Now go.” He sat up, chest heaving, standing his ground and watching the meathead with a death stare until he stumbled out of the weight room. His friends trailed him.

  Travis nodded at Lex. “Make sure he leaves for good. And add him to the list.”

  Lex nodded and hurried out of the weight room, heading for the front of the building. The rest of the spectators quietly resumed their training, and Travis went to the far side of the gym where Eddie and Amara were deep in conversation.

  “Dude, he’s gone.” He squeezed Eddie’s shoulder. “You okay?”

  He nodded, sniffing. “Mighta bruised a rib, but I’m okay.”

  Amara swung to look at him, eyes brimming with emotions. “Thanks, Travis. Those guys were disgusting.”

  “Seriously. He’s a newer guy, too, so he didn’t have much weight-room time. He passed our screening, but I think he was using. I’m sorry that happened.” He patted Eddie’s back. “You feel up to training today?”

  Eddie sighed, surveying the room. After a moment, he nodded. “Yeah. Fuck that guy. Let’s go easy on the ribs if we can.”

  “Attaboy. Shake it off.”

  Eddie puffed out his chest and went back to the machine he’d been on before. Travis raised a brow at Amara. “And what about you?”

  “I didn’t get punched. I’m still game on. Though I should ask you the same question. You just brought down big dumb Brutus over there. I’d understand if you needed to go take a shower or something to wash his scent off you.”

  He grinned, nudging her with his shoulder back toward the center of the gym. “Pff. Please. My pheromones are stronger than his.”

  She cast a sly look toward him. “Oh? Should I consider this a warning, then?”

  He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Eddie’s concentrating face nearby felt like a yellow flag.

  “Depends on what you need to be warned about.” He laughed, handing the dumbbells to her again. “Now get sweating.”

  She resumed the lunges with a grin, but her face clouded over. After some reps, he asked, “What’re you thinking about?”

  Surprise crossed her face. “Oh…you know.”

  “I don’t. That’s what I asked.”

  The corner of her mouth lifted. “Just…everything.”

  He shrugged. “Fair enough.”

  “I was wondering if we could try the self-defense class.”

  He lifted a brow. “For real? Anytime.”

  “Like, maybe this week.” She looked up at him, her face both innocent and imploring. “I’m going to go in tomorrow to the new job to do paperwork, so some evening time would probably be best since this job will be from nine to five.”

  “Sure.” He raked through his internal schedule. He’d clear any evening for her…nightly even, if she wanted. “What day were you thinking?”

  “Wednesday?” She grunted a little as she did her last lunge. “God. Everything is burning already.”

  “Score.” He took the dumbbells from her and set them back on the rack. “Wednesday is fine.”

  “Maybe I’ll come here after work. Like, say…seven?” Her face was flushed; she watched him for a reaction.

  “Yeah. I can teach you the basics in an hour.”

  “Perfect.” She grinned. “I’ll probably start coming in on the evening, now that I work days.”

  “Whatever works.” He was a chronic day-shifter, but if working nights meant he’d get alone time with Amara, he’d switch his schedule in a heartbeat. Especially if Eddie wasn’t going to be hanging around, it meant that he could push the envelope a bit further. Not far enough to get in trouble, but far enough to sate even a little bit of the raucous voice inside telling him to pursue Amara no matter what.

  Chapter 6

  Hours after her workout with Travis, Amara couldn’t stop seeing flashes of his face in her mind. Every task around her conjured him; shoving clothes into the washer sparked imaginary conversations with him, as though he were by her side. Even spotting a dark-blond guy on the sidewalk or overhearing laughter made her tense and hopeful that it was him.

  You’re losing it, girl. She shoved the second load of laundry into the industrial washer, miles away from his gym and his home. There was no way she’d run into him. Impossible. But yet, just maybe…

  She’d volunteered to take the family’s clothes to the laundromat as a way to get some space before her first day at the new job…and to figure out how the fuck to calm herself about Travis.

  Once the last load was in and spinning, she sighed, returning to the card table she’d made her stakeout. She picked up her nonfiction book to resume reading about the inspiring transformation of an inner-city school, but after a few lines, the words blurred, and she checked her phone. Just to look at the text exchange between her and Travis from that morning, where she’d shared the good new
s about the job. Somehow, rereading the words felt like communicating with him in the present.

  Could he feel this way too? She set the book down, staring at the blank reply space. Maybe she could…talk to him. Like she had that morning. For some gym-related reason.

  Thanks for the great workout today. Can barely move.

  She sent it before she could think otherwise, watching, horrified, as the message materialized as sent. She buried herself in her book again, brows furrowed.

  A reply came within the next couple of minutes. Need a wheelchair? Might be a new service I offer.

  She giggled. Sign me up. I have a long way to go before I get into shape. Feel like a pudgy mess.

  His reply was quick. You got a guy banned from my gym today. You’re fine.

  She sat, stunned, rereading the text over and over again. He was calling her hot, in a way. And maybe this was his way of opening the door a little, even around Eddie’s looming presence.

  So it was my fault?

  There was a long pause. She worried maybe he hadn’t picked up on the playful undertone she’d intended. As she typed out a clarifying message, his response arrived.

  Maybe I should have banned YOU? No more distractions for the weight lifters.

  Pressing her tongue into her cheek, she reread it a couple of times. She could imagine the playful look in his eye. God, she wished he was here with her. Please don’t ban me. I promise I’ll wear baggy clothes and stay in corners.

  You’re full of shit. Don’t resort to extreme measures please.

  She pushed the phone away, butterflies swarming her stomach. She legitimately felt like she was in high school texting a crush. The rush was heady, overwhelming, dizzying. How long had it been since she’d felt like this? She couldn’t keep the grin off her face.