Page 13 of Totally Opposed

“Those were like warm-up games. You’re playing with the OG’s now. That should get them here.”

“Whatever. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Don’t get him any of those chocolate cookies, Wheat Thins only,” she calls, and I leave before I lie and agree.

I get to the gym, and Ryan isn’t here yet, so I start on some stretches, then hit the leg press. It was torture last week working out while Ryan moved through Kyle’s program. I tried to stay focused on what I was doing, but I would catch myself staring, and it would totally put me off what rep or set I was even up to.

“Hey,” Ryan says, walking in and rubbing his shoulder.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I just need to warm up, I think.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“You’re starting to sound like Kyle.”

“He is the expert in this department. Maybe you should tell Dennis these extra skits are too much.”

“It’s not. They’re not. I’m fine,” he replies and starts on his program. I watch as he moves through each action slower than he did yesterday. If he’s hurting, he should stop. It’s only going to make things worse for him if he pushes himself too far. I climb from the press and walk over to where he’s standing, circling his shoulders.

“How about we skip on the rest of the workout? Nothing I seem to be doing is getting these chicken legs any bigger, anyway. Let’s hit the steam room instead,” I say, and his lips pick up a little in the corner.

“You don’t have chicken legs. Your legs are great. I mean fine. Your legs look fine to me, is what I’m saying.”

I know he’s probably just being nice. He had a thing for Harry, and his legs are thick as tree trunks, his arms too. That guy is all muscle. But the way Ryan’s gaze trails down my body and back up sends a shiver through me and makes me hope that his compliment is more than just a false nicety.

“Thanks. People always joke about me skipping leg day. My ex most of all. He always called them chicken legs, even got in the habit of tossing me a packet of the real things whenever we were at the store.”

I immediately feel my cheeks warm, and I turn my attention to where my shoes rest against the base plate of the leg press.Fuck, why did I bring up my ex? I should just shut up and go back to working out.

“Good thing he’s your ex then,” Ryan says, and I look back up to find his eyebrows raised and a wide smile on his lips. “Because he sounds like a bloody wanker.”

I laugh. “He was, actually. In so many ways.”

“Well, forget what he called them, because those stems are fit.”

“Fit?”

He shrugs, and I catch the slightest wince in his expression. He really should not be working out today. “It’s British. It just means they are…great,” he continues.

“Oh, well, umm, thanks. So do you want to maybe hit the steam room? I think I’ve had enough for today anyway. Mystemsare a bit sore.”

He smiles softly, my heartbeat racing faster the longer he holds my stare.

“Kyle did say I had to do the whole program,” he replies.

“Kyle also said to stop if it hurts. I’m just suggesting we stop slightlybeforeit hurts. Steam is good for your muscles. It increases blood flow, and reduces stiffness.”

He looks away, his small smile growing into a wide smirk.

“I mean, muscle stiffness. It makes your muscles feel better. Shit, you know what I mean.”

“Okay, but if Kyle asks, I did the whole program,” he says, and he climbs from the floor.

“Got it.”

Note for later. Steam rooms are not a place to get to know someone. The air is thick, and as relaxing as the steam is for your muscles, it also makes you want to just sit or lie there and do nothing but breathe. So that’s what we did until the timer went off and he hit the showers. I lied and said I had to make a phone call before training started. No shower boners for me today. Well, at least not until I get home anyway.

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