Eyes down, he pushed open the door and took two steps out onto the sidewalk when he heard a sharp gasp and his eyes shot up just as he barreled directly into Roxy.
Grabbing hold of her upper arm with his free hand as they collided roughly, he regained his balance by twisting and pushing her up against the stucco wall that made up the entrance of the rec center, the hand that still held his cell phone pressed against the wall above her shoulder, his bag swinging from his side to thud into the stucco wall near her hip.
His eyes darted across her face, searching for any sign that he’d caused her pain. He had managed to keep his body away from her as they tripped on each other, but somehow one of his thighs ended up between hers, his knee resting against the stucco wall between her legs. He could feel the rough texture of the wall against his bare knee, a sharp contrast to the softness of the athletic leggings she wore as her legs straddled his. Her fingers were fisted tightly in the fabric of his shirt at his sides, the backs of her fingers pressed flush against his ribs as if she’d grabbed hold of him to steady herself. The coolness of her fingers through his thin t-shirt made his heart trip on itself in his chest. Her fingers were like ice.
Her shocked gasp tore through him, and his gaze dropped to her mouth, parted slightly. He stared at the jagged white scar that bisected the left side of her full lower lip before raising his eyes to her hazel ones, and again he wondered where it had come from. She stared up at him, her eyes wide, before she twisted her head to the side, glancing out toward the line of parked cars. When she brought them back to his, they were filled withfear. It was sobering, witnessing that fright as it passed over her features. A reminder of the monster he was, as if that self-preservation instinct in her could sense it in him.
Clearing his throat, he pushed away from the wall, stepping back away from her, giving her space. Her fingers fell away from his sides, releasing the death grip she’d had on his shirt. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket, and her tongue darted out to wet her lips. His eyes tracked every move. Fear and anxiety radiated off of her, making his chest ache.
“I’m sorry,” he said roughly, gesturing to the phone in his hand. “I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t mean to bowl you over like that.”
“It’s okay,” she said softly, swallowing. “I walked out without my bag, and I wasn’t watching where I was going coming back in. I thought I saw something—”
She glanced over her shoulder again, her breath catching slightly, before she turned back to him. His brows drew together as he watched her.
“Nevermind,” she laughed lightly, shaking her head. “It was nothing. I’ll see you Monday, for the first class.”
He nodded then. “Right. You and Blondie signed up.”
One of her auburn eyebrows shot up. “Blondie?”
“Your friend,” he said. Realization sparked in her hazel eyes, and he sighed, chuckling. “I’m awful with names.”
“So you’ve got Red and Blondie. Anyone else I should know?” she teased lightly.
He laughed out loud then, shifting from one sneaker clad foot to the other as he turned to face the wall of windows. He pointed to a tall, thin guy in the far corner. “The guy in the red tank top and black shorts? String Bean.” She laughed out loud and he hated to admit that he loved the husky sound of it. He gestured to the left and said, “Gray sweats, no shirt guy? Princess.” When she choked on another laugh, he chuckled. “He’s always posing,taking pictures of himself, rarely does anything that actually gets his body moving. There—” he said again, pointing to the right, “—guy all in black, blonde hair and those big gold glasses? Dahmer.”
“Oh my god,Travis!” she laughed again, raising her eyes to his. A wide grin pulled her mouth, making the white scar show up brightly against the flesh of her lower lip. “You can’t call people that!”
“Why not? He looks just like him,” he chuckled, shrugging. “Like I said, I’m awful with names. Not that I really get to know anyone that well. If they stick around long enough, then I’ll learn their name. Until then, I just make shit up to entertain myself.”
A car engine roared to life from down the way, and Roxy jumped, her eyes running up and down the sidewalk nervously. She moved closer to the door of the gym and said, “I should probably go grab my bag. See you Monday, Travis.”
And then she slipped inside the door and it swished shut behind her, leaving him out on the sidewalk.
He turned and walked toward his Ford Bronco Badlands, sliding in behind the wheel and pressing the ignition to start. He’d waited until he’d watched her walk back out of the gym with her bag over her shoulder. She glanced up and down the sidewalk, striding quickly over to her vehicle, nearly running the last few steps. She slid inside the driver’s door, slamming it shut. He watched as she hastily locked the doors.
His knuckles fisted on the steering wheel. The monster reared its head inside him, awakening. Readying for a fight.
Because the fear in Red’s eyes as she stared up at him when he offered to drive her home the other day… the fear in them now as she sat inside her car…heknewthat look. Knew the way her eyes darted around, searching for some unnamed threat.
It had been the same look of fear he’d seen in the mirror too many times to count as a child. Seen it on his mother’s face, until it had been too late.
She was scared of something.
No.
She was scared ofsomeone.And he realized then that she hadn’t been scared ofhimearlier. But someone else.
Six
“Icould have sworn it was right here,” Roxy muttered, shifting several bottles of perfume and body spray on the top of her dresser. Her phone was tucked between her ear and shoulder, and she sighed in frustration, turning in a slow circle in her bedroom.
“You still can’t find it?” Natalie asked from the other end of the phone. “Are you sure you didn’t leave it in your gym bag?”
“I never take that one to the gym,” Roxy muttered, half to herself, half to her friend, her eyes scanning over every inch of her room. She padded back to the bathroom, opened and closed all of the vanity drawers to no avail. She slapped one palm to her thigh in aggravation. “That’s my favorite. IknowI just used it the other day. It’s almost empty, and I reminded myself to buy more the next time I go toSephora.”
“Did you maybe throw it away because it was almost empty, and you just don’t remember doing it?” Natalie asked, the ever-helpful devil’s advocate.
