Page 28 of Brutal Bratva King

It’s been so uncomfortable.

It’ll be nice to be civil to each other.

Because I have nothing else to do, I change into my workout gear and head up to the gym.

Rodion has a really well-kitted out gym and I spend an hour and a half doing weight training after a little warm-up on the treadmill.

I get so into the workout that I don’t notice him standing at the door watching me.

I yelp in fright when I see his reflection in the mirror after I set the weights I was using down on the floor.

My heart is racing when he walks towards me.

My entire body is drenched in sweat, I’m a little out of breath and now his presence is making it worse.

He’s dressed in his gym gear as well and looks pleased to see me in here.

His eyes trace over my body and I realize just how tight my outfit is. Feeling self-conscious, I pick up my sweat towel and hold it casually in front of me.

“Pink looks good on you,” he comments on the neon brightness of my gym set.

“Um. Thanks.” I take a step backward and bump into the weights rack.

“Ow,” I mutter, annoyed with myself.

“Are you done?” he asks, stepping close. I have nowhere to go.

My skin feels hot and it tingles at the sight of him. My entire body is suddenly begging for him again and I am afraid he will be able to tell just by looking at me.

“Yes, I’m done. I’m going to hop into the shower now. I hope you enjoy your workout.” I have to side step around him to get past the weights and the machine as he leans towards me and breathes in as I press by him.

His smile is dark and full of mischief.

Once I am around him, I don’t turn back.

I know my cheeks are bright red and all I want to do is get out of here.

I wish I knew how long he had been watching me for and what he was thinking.

I hurry through the gym doors, then curiosity gets the better of me and I peak over my shoulder.

He is still watching me.

“Enjoy your shower, princess,” he chuckles.

I blush deeper shades of red and rush away.

What am I going to do about my body's reaction to him every time I get close to him?

I know it’s not just my body, either. He has some kind of weird control over my thoughts, too. Dammit. All he has to do is glance over me in a suggestive way and I want to throw myself at the man.

How did it go from thinking I was repulsed and annoyed by him—tothis?

In my own private bathroom, I strip out of my sweaty gym gear and toss it into the wash basket.

The hot water from the shower quickly steams up the mirrors and glass doors.

Climbing inside, I can’t help thinking about what it would be like to work out with him—and then shower with him after.

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