Page 8 of Totally Opposed

“Barely. That guy’s a masochist,” he says, rolling his shoulder back a few times.

“Umm, you know that means you think he gets sexual gratification from his own pain, right?”

“Shit, no. What’s the word for someone who loves inflicting pain on people?”

“Sadist.”

“Right. That. Kyle is a fucking sadist.”

Kyle walks in laughing. “Calm down, it was the first session. It’ll get easier. And just so you know. I’m neither a sadist nor a masochist.”

“That is exactly what a sadist or masochist would say,” Ryan teases.

With one brow raised and the cheeky smirk he’s wearing, I’m reminded just how much he looks like a young Tom Hardy. Dark brown, lush hair, perfect soft skin, plump pink lips, bright blue eyes that sometimes look green depending on the light, and that British accent. Fuck, I could listen to it all day.

“Well, I also don’t date players, so I guess you’ll neverreallyknow for sure.”

Ryan’s cheeks blush. Does he have a thing for Kyle?

“Do you have the plan?” Kyle asks, and Ryan nods, pulling out his phone and swiping the screen.

“Yep, there are only seven things on here, though.”

“And you’ll need to stop any one of them if you feel pain.”

I suddenly realize I’m just sitting there watching them go through his exercises, so I push up, take the weight onto my shoulders, and slide the release across so that the weights will lower down with me each rep.

My thighs are instantly on fire as I move into the first squat, and I glance across to see I’ve flicked the weight three blocks higher than my last session. Fuck. My legs shake as I push up, my fingers white-knuckling the handles until I’m past the starting point and can slide the lock over again.

“You good?” Ryan calls, and I smile and wave his way.

“Fine, just warming up,” I lie and adjust the weight back down to where it should be before I go again.

That could have been bad. Really bad. There is a reason the team trainers are always telling us to never work out alone. If I hadn’t been able to push that up, it would have been pretty painful getting out from under it. But I guess I won’t have to worry about being alone at the gym for a little while because now I have a gym buddy. This will be good. It will be fine. I can remain professional and work out with the guy, no problem. I work out with guys all the time. But it’s Ryan Tanner. The same Ryan Tanner I’ve not been able to take my eyes off for the past few months. The Ryan Tanner who totally had to have heard me singing his fucking name yesterday in the shower. The same Ryan Tanner, who right now is crouched on all fours, perfect round ass pointed right in my direction. Yeah. I’m totally fucked.

Chapter five

Ryan

I get to thegym before Alan and start on some of the stretches Kyle has assigned on the floor by the back wall. When I was in here yesterday, I noticed that Alan was using all the leg machines, and from here, I’ll be able to see him without looking like I’m totally creeping on him. Probably.

He pushes through the door a few minutes later and makes a beeline right for the treadmills.

“Hey,” I say, and he nods my way but offers nothing else. I mean, true, we’re here to work out, but would a hello kill you? “Hitting legs again today?”

“Yeah, not that it makes much difference.”

“You beat out half the guys yesterday during sprints, so maybe it is doing something.”

“I guess so,” he replies, but it doesn’t sound like he agrees. “How’s the shoulder?” he asks.

I roll it backward a few times, and though the ache heats with each rotation, I try to play it cool.

“Fine. I’ll be good by game day for sure.”

“Well, that’s great for the Funky Monkeys, not so great for us.”

“You hit off my fastball last year.”

---