“That sweater making him hot or something?” Brad asks, readjusting his hands on my hips as I hold a weight in one hand and lower into another lunge.
“No, he likes wearing clothes,” I pant as I hold my position for three counts.
“He’s an animal,” Brad says.
“So?” I lift my eyes to his, and he plasters a smile onto his face.
“You know, actually, I like it. Suits him.”
I look away and perform another lunge, holding for three counts again.
“You’re doing really well,” Brad praises, squeezing my hips and straightening them a little. “One more.”
I finish the set and put the weight down, lifting my towel to dry off.
“Where’s your usual guy?” Brad asks.
I glance over at the bench Jenson and Monty are sitting on. Jenson’s wearing a cocky grin and Monty’s staring at Brad with his ears pulled back like he wants to run over and bite him.
“You mean Denver?”
“That his name? The big guy that doesn’t say much?”
“He’s got the day off.” It’s all I can say because I don’t know where Denver is, or which family member has gotten an emergency. Because he’s never once told me about anyone close to him despite all the time we’ve been spending together.
“Thought you might have gotten rid of him.”
“Why would I do that?”
Brad shakes his head. “No reason.”
“Come on. This is me you’re talking to,” I say, slinging my towel over one shoulder and placing my hands on my hips.
His eyes soften as he studies my face. “Sure is you, Sin.”
My cheeks heat as he reaches up and takes my towel, swiping it over the top of my chest above the swell of my breasts.
“It’s the way he stares at you all the time. Like he wishes he had a chance,” Brad muses, his eyes traveling to my cleavage as he lets my towel go.
“He doesn’t.”
“I know he doesn’t. He’s just a bodyguard. You’re way out of his league.”
I gape at Brad’s back as he returns my weight to the rack.
“What? I meant; he doesn’t stare at me all the time.”
Brad shrugs. “I’m just telling it like I see it. When we had coffee the other day, he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”
“He’s my bodyguard. That’s his job,” I huff.
“Yeah, maybe. Dude over there seems more chilled though.”
I look over at Jenson, who’s chuckling to himself as he types something into his phone.
“You ready for some stretches?” Brad grins as he grabs a mat and throws it on the floor.
“So this guy tried to sell me a casket the other day.”
