Everything is just more fun when you’re doing it with someone else.
The man does the introduction to his HIIT workout and explains the first cycle, which is just basic jump rope. Thetimer appears in the corner of the screen, and we both start jumping when the countdown starts.
For it being his first time, Rowan does a good job keeping up. I’m skipping with ease and watching him out of the corner of my eye. He’s sexy, that’s undeniable, but I don’t think I fully prepared myself to see him working out. To see those giant muscles of his strain with each action…even his long-sleeved shirt can’t hide the sheer power of him.
By the time the alarm sounds, ending the first round, I’m feeling downright warm. Whether it’s from the workout or from watching Rowan is still undecided.
“You’re doing great!” I say when it’s time for the mini break.
“Thanks, I think I’m getting it,” Rowan says with a huge grin, like he’s proud of mastering a skill as inconsequential as this.
He’s adorable, and I’m saved from accidentally blurting that out when the dude on the screen explains our next move. We’re supposed to do some kind of foot tap with each jump. It’s more advanced than basic jump roping.
“You think you can handle some footwork?” I tease Rowan, grinning at him. He grins in response with a determined look in his eyes and nods.
“Should we bet on who can do the most combos? Loser gets lunch.”
A corner of Rowan’s mouth turns up in an uneven smile that’s more perfect than any I’ve seen on the runway.
“You’re on,” he agrees right when the countdown starts again, and we both follow our virtual leader.
We both know I have the advantage, since this is his first time jumping rope, but to be fair, Rowan is clearly more athletic than I am in all sense of the word, so it’s a toss-up on who will actually win the bet.
I quickly get used to the action and glance at my competition. Rowan is completely focused on his moves. His head is down, and he’s watching his feet with the same intensity I’m watching him.
Which is why I don’t realize that with each foot tap, my body is turning and getting closer to where I’m looking: Rowan.
Then it happens. I whip the rope around me one more time, and instead of gliding under my feet like it should have, it tangles with Rowan’s rope. He’s still focused on his feet and doesn’t realize our ropes have caught together until I trip over my feet and fall his way.
“Whoa, there!” he calls and catches me with his large body, but in doing so, our ropes whip together in a tangled mess around us. They tighten around our legs and have Rowan tripping backward.
I instinctively shut my eyes and press my face into his chest. A hint of leather and mint—probably from my body wash—hits my nose, invading my senses as strong arms wrap around me and cushion the fall.
For a second, the world is nothing but leather and the man who has me safely in his arms. It’s so warm and comfortable that I would be okay staying here forever if not for the groans of pain hitting my ears.
I instantly try to sit up, but the ropes only allow me to lift my head enough to look at his face. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head?”
Rowan lets another wince slip. His eyes are squeezed tight. I’m not sure if it’s intentional, but his hands tighten around my waist and remind me that I’m lying completely on top of him with my body pressed against every single one of his hard edges.
A large bulge is pressing against my lower stomach, which shouldn’t be surprising since he’s huge everywhere else, why notthere?
Rowan groans once more, his lids open, and he tilts his head slightly so he can see me. “I’m fine. Are you hurt anywhere?” he asks gruffly.
I hear the question, but I’m distracted. It’s the first time I’m seeing his eyes this close, and even if his pupils are currently dilated—from the adrenaline, no doubt—I’m still able to see the myriad of colors peeking through the edges.
“Beautiful,” I find myself murmuring.
“What?” Rowan squeaks. Hearing the higher pitch from him has me smiling.
“Your eyes,” I clarify, and while I do find the man himself beautiful too, I should probably keep my mouth shut about that. “I thought they were green or blue, but they’re not either. There’s blue, green, brown, and gray. They’reeverything. The most beautiful thing I’ve seen.”
“They’re just hazel,” Rowan corrects, but color tints his skin. The urge to trace the color with my tongue is loud in my head.
“You must have gotten hurt and hit your head if you’re thinking like that,” Rowan teases.
“Maybe I am hurt,” I say slowly. Rowan is immediately on alert until I add, “I think you’ll have to kiss me and make it better.”
“W-what?” Rowan stutters, then his hazel eyes are wide, the black almost fully blown. “We shouldn’t.”
