Page 32 of Love Game

Frustrated, he hit the button to cancel the session and planted his hands on his hips. These days, the Warrior workout room was empty in the early morning hours. Later on, a few regulars would shuffle in, but the campus was becoming more deserted every day.

He’d been pleased to note that quite a few of his players took their new strength-training regime seriously. He hoped he’d be able to use some of that raw determination to overcome the team’s lack of any outstanding talent. Grit could get a guy a helluva long way if he was willing to work hard enough. If he could just convince a few of the leaders that they had it in them, they could pull the rest along with them.

His steps slowed until the treadmill ground to a halt. LED numbers flashed his stats, but he paid them no mind. As far as he was concerned, the workout had been a failure. Speculating about his absent football team wasn’t proving to be a strong enough distraction. His blood still boiled with wanting Kate.

Stepping off the treadmill, he peeled the shirt over his head and took a quick inventory. The muscles in his chest and arms were well defined but not as inflated at they’d been back in his playing days. He’d need to see the doc about getting cortisone injected in his shoulder. Running a hand over the damp hair that led to his waistband, he had to admit his abs weren’t as sculpted as they’d been when he was younger, but overall, his belly was still flat and somewhat ripped. He vowed there and then to spend the summer months reclaiming his six-pack rather than consuming them. Turning away from the mirrors, he mentally added more ab work to his routine as he started toward the weight room.

The chink of heavy metal plates touching and a low grunt of exertion drew him up short of the entrance. He glanced down at the wringing-wet shirt in his hand and shuddered. He loathed the thought of struggling into it again, but he was vain enough to know the body he’d been admiring moments ago would look battered beside even the softest twentysomething. He was shaking out the damp cotton when the weights clanked a bit louder and an exhalation of relief marked the end of a set. A very feminine exhalation.

Curiosity piqued, Danny poked his head around the corner. Shiny, brown hair pulled into a ruthless ponytail. Long, toned arms spread wide to grip the bar dangling over her head. Neon-rainbow trainers planted on either side of the padded bench, Kate drew the pulley down, the muscles in her back tensing and bunching beneath her tank top. The metal bar grazed the ponytail, setting it to sway as she controlled the slow, steady ascent.

His feet moved without thought. He caught the count she murmured under her breath, measuring his steps to her reps. By the time she huffed, “Ten,” he stood directly behind her.

His shirt fell to the floor in a heap. Kate tensed but didn’t turn. The buzz of electricity humming through the room had nothing to do with the fluorescent bulbs mounted to the drop ceiling. The whiteness of her knuckles told him she knew damn well it was him. He straddled the end of the bench, pressing his knees into her lower back as he gripped the cool metal bar on either side of the center chain and eased it from her grip.

She raised her head and let her arms fall limp to her sides. Their gazes met and held in the mirror. The silky strands of her ponytail grazed his stomach as she tipped her head back. But instead of the chastisement or indignation he felt sure was coming, she said, “I have another set.”

Wordlessly, he hauled the bar down so she could grasp it without rising from the bench. Long, strong fingers wrapped around the grips, and his hands came to rest on her traps. She stiffened, but only for a moment. “You like the shoes?”

She cast him a sidelong glance. “Love them.”

“So I have a chance?”

Graceful muscle moved beneath silken skin. He stared transfixed as she counted off the first rep. “Chance for what?”

“Dinner. I’d like to start over. See if we can’t spend five minutes in each other’s company without sniping.”

“I’m told the sniping is media gold.” She huffed and pulled the bar down once more. “Didn’t Millie call you? The local station has booked time for us to do a weekly show. We’re supposed to film the first one this afternoon.”

“She told me.” The show would be kind of a sports-themed point/counterpoint thing with Jim Davenport as their monkey in the middle. He wasn’t crazy about the idea of picking fights with Kate for public consumption, but he’d take the opportunity to spend more time with her. He trailed his fingertips over her delts. “I just want to know if there will be Telestrators. I’ve always wanted to play with the Telestrator.”

She pulled two more reps. “You are the handsiest spotter I’ve ever had.”

He chuckled and slid his palms over her arms, feeling each muscle tighten as his fingers wrapped around her forearms. She held for a moment, but he urged her to proceed with gentle pressure. “I can’t help myself,” he confessed as she puffed out number eight. “I want you. God, I want you.”

She froze, her shoulders and elbows locked and her arms quivering with the effort of holding the weights. “More than a TV show with a Telestrator?”

“I’ve had a TV show, you know. Nothing glamorous or exciting about standing in front of a green screen. The Telestrator is tempting, but it pales…” He stared, transfixed by the rosy flush coloring her fair complexion. “I can’t think about anything but wanting you.”

The plates hit with a jarring clang. She didn’t turn to look at him, but tremors of exertion—or was it excitement?—shivered under sleek, pink-gold skin. “Do you always get what you want?”

He chuckled again. “I think you know I don’t.” She lowered her arms, but he couldn’t stop touching her. “They’ve all warned me.”

“Warned you about what?”

“You. To stay away from you. But I can’t.”

She closed her eyes. Dark lashes fanned flushed cheeks, and her muscles relaxed. “This is a bad idea on so many levels.”

Her words were tantamount to a confession. She’d been thinking about it too. About him. Them. That kiss.

“Horrible idea,” he agreed, bending to press a slow, firm kiss to her damp nape. “I don’t cater to prima donnas.”

He spoke low and soft, smiling as he kissed a lazy path along her hairline.

Kate shivered and tilted her head, granting him better access. “I’ve never been a fan of the comeback kid.”

“You’re so smug here in your little kingdom.”

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