I continued to stroke her hair and let it string between my fingers until I slowly drifted off, too.
“Liem… Liem…”
Fuck.
It always ends the same way. Gracie calling out for me. But I’m never able to reach her.
I tear my eyes away from the ceiling, throwing my legs off the bed. It’s still dark outside, and when I check my phone, the time reads a little after four in the morning. There’s no way in hell I can go back to sleep now, so I throw on sweatpants, and an old shirt and head out for the gym.
The clubhouse is silent and dark. There aren’t a lot of times that happened, and it almost feels eerie because of it.
I don’t bother putting on a jacket since the gym is only next door, but as I step outside, the frosty air makes me abnormally shiver. I’m normally immune to the frigid temperatures, but this morning feels different.
We all had a key to get inside Tank’s gym. Shit, all of us are here more than he is at times. He has his own private gym at his place anyhow and that’s why he lets Angel take the reins of co-managing the gym here most of the time.
Before sticking my key inside the lock, I notice a light from inside is on, but it’s coming from the back, and I can’t see pastthe wall. Figuring someone forgot to turn it off last night before closing, I realize I don’t need my key and then enter.
The only sound is the pounding of the treadmill running. Okay, so someone is obviously here working out. And my money is on Danika.
I creep inside slowly, and as I round the corner getting a whiff of the fruity vanilla scent, I spot copper hair. The flow of it swaying back and forth is familiar.
Danika sprints on the treadmill, her body pushing itself to the most extreme it can. Sweat trickles down her bare back, disappearing into the material of her sports bra that clings to her skin. She has earbuds in which is probably why she doesn’t hear me. The area here is safe, but regardless, I don’t like the fact she’s oblivious to her surroundings.
Her outfit shows off her toned body. The lean muscles of her quads bend with every hit of the treadmill under her tight leggings. The pounding of each step vibrates off the treadmill belt, but she doesn’t falter. Keeps going. Keeps pushing.
The large mirror hanging off to the side lining the entire wall gives me full access to her features. The sweat trickles her brows and cascades down her neck. Her eyes are shut off, empty as she runs like her life depends on it. But it’s when she glances to the right and spots me, the echo of her scream fills the gym.
Shit.
She hops up from the moving belt, allowing the arms of the treadmill to hold her weight. Her back and chest rise and fall to catch her breath while she yanks her earbuds out. “You scared the shit out of me,” she says, her words coming out in a struggle.
I approach her. “Sorry. That wasn’t my intention.” Unsure of my next move, I stand there with eyes locked on hers. “I didn’t know anyone would be here. I’ll go.”
She jets out a hand, latching on to my forearm. With an involuntary flinch, she snatches it back, her eyes slit inconfusion. “No. Stay. You won’t bother me if that’s what you’re worried about.”
I don’t like to be touched and I’m not entirely sure what I thought about her being here. I suppose her wanting her privacy crossed my mind. Or it’s me who wants to be alone. Regardless, I nod and give her what she wishes.
Danika slowly turns away, the sound of the treadmill belt still going at the speed she was previously sprinting to. She taps the button, and the belt slows all while she sticks her earbuds back in. She continues with a fast walk, and I head toward the front to where the weights are.
Sometimes I’d start my workout with a run, but instead, I grab a set of dumbbells, doing a few warmup motions for my shoulders. But I do end up stealing a few glances behind me.
TWELVE
Danika
The sun starts to peak over the horizon, and I have yet to leave this damn treadmill. Hush scared the living crap out of me but not in ways other men do.
With determination, I turn off the machine and head up to where the dummy bags are. But I fumble to a stop at the sight of Hush at the pull up bar. Sweat glistens on his skin, dampening the back of his shirt. The swirls of his black ink can be seen and with each pulling movement, his biceps flex. Not to mention his back muscles being extremely visible under his tight, sweat drenched shirt.
I find the safety of the wall resting my hand to it, watching his every movement. He has to be on like fifty pull ups by now. Well… maybe not that many but it must be close.
He catches my gaze, staring back intently as he drops down. His eyes never leave mine as he catches his breath.
Shit.
My cheeks warm and I snap my head away, grabbing the tape from my bag, and wrapping it around my sore knuckles on each hand.
I start with the same moves I’ve been practicing and punch the bag with the highest amount of force my body will allow, continuing the sets repeatedly.
