Cecily watches her. “I’m not sure. It must be because you’re here. Do you know her?”
“Me?” I ask, watching the girl run and awkwardly turn back around to see if we’re looking. Shit. God, I knew I shouldn’t have come here. “I have never seen her before.”
“How often do you work out?” she asks, turning off the treadmill she had on for a minute. She keeps her feet on the sides as she waits for it to come to a complete stop.
“Every day,” I blurt out, noticing again that everyone is staring.
“That’s probably not good. How intense?”
I smile now, wondering what she’s getting at.
“I got a smile,” she says. “I was wondering when you’d drop the whole deer-in-the-headlights look.”
I don’t want to tell her I’m a hockey player. I don’t want to say to her that I’m training, that I’m an athlete. I want to seem like a regular guy, but by the looks of her friend still gawking over me, she might already know I play hockey.
“I’m gonna hit the weight rack. I’ll––”
“Same,” she says, and I’ve never in my entire life ever been so thrown off by the personality of a girl. She’s outgoing, friendly, and social. And drop dead gorgeous. Most girls like this are neither kind nor outgoing, nor even touchable. This one is full of warmth and seems to have a lot to give.
“Are you always like this?” I blurt, curiosity winning every cell of my body.
Another guy walks by and says, “What’s up, Ce?”
She smiles and waves at him. “What’s up?”
I watch his eyes flick up and down her body, but her attention is already on me.
I feel like my gut’s being stabbed right now. He’s really looking at her like she’s a piece of meat while she’s innocently greeting him. Some guys really only care about one thing.
“If you want, you can join me.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to intrude. Thank you. Have a good day.”
I walk off, heading for the weights, wondering if this is me playing hard to get or if I have a serious fucking problem because she’s throwing herself at me, isn’t she?
I don’t want to think too hard about it.
Beautiful or not, approaching me while at the gym is an annoying trait. Even though it’s clear that she’s friends with everyone here, I don’t have the capacity to chat and make a new friend right now. I set the bar with weights and repeat the best mantra I can come up with right now.
Don’t look at her.
Don’t look at her.
Don’t look at her.
2
Cecily
Marina is bulging her eyes when I make my way to her. She grabs my arm, and it is so apparent that she knows exactly who that guy is and thinks he’s majorly hot. Like on fire hot. Likestop, drop, rollhot.
“Please tell me you know who he is?” she squeaks like we’re suddenly best friends. Truth is, we barely talk.
I shake my head. “I have no idea. But you just finished your workout, aren’t you leaving?”
“Cecily. He’s like one of the hottest guys on campus,” she whispers. “Okay, maybe not the hottest one out of the group, but definitely like top five.”
I shrug. “That’s who he is?” I laugh. “Fifth hottest guy on campus?”
