Page 20 of I Blame the Alcohol

I grab my water bottle and head over to the free-range section where Stella is finishing up the round Hayden was unable to complete. I step tentatively, aware of the dangerous charge in the air. Stella’s temper is like a volcano, once it’s erupted, it will either fall dormant or erupt again immediately.

Makes approaching her in this state risky to say the least.

I patiently wait for her to finish her box jumps before casually clearing my throat.

“I take it the date went well?”

She scoffs, turning so I can see satisfaction brimming in her beautiful blue eyes, “He didn’t even make it to halfway.”

I take another step closer, testing the waters, “I would have been disappointed if he did.”

My comment hits its mark and a big, bright smile takes over Stella’s features.

“Want to know a secret?”

No longer afraid of Stella’s fury, my feet propel themselves forward until I’m close enough to see the sweat glistening along her hairline.

“I purposefully skipped the rest intervals.” Her eyes sparkle with mischief, and I press my lips together to keep from laughing.

“Doubt that would have changed the outcome.”

Stella tilts her head to the side, “No, but then he might not have cracked under thirteen minutes.” Her perfectly straight teeth pop out as her smile widens.

“Would have been a shame to make it a quarter of the way through.”

I laugh, stealing a glance over my shoulder to where a pale and trembling Hayden is being led out the door.

“I’m not sure he’s going to be up for a second date.”

Stella shrugs, drawing my attention to the hard outline of her traps and the tendrils of platinum hair sticking to her damp skin.

“He failed the first test. Wasn’t going to get a second date anyway.”

Tearing my gaze from the smooth skin, I raise a questioning eyebrow, “Not sure anyone is going to pass the first test if it means having the stamina of a horse.”

Stella waves away my concerns with a flick of her hand, “Today was an exception. I just want someone who can keep up, not necessarily be a beast in the gym.”

“Pretty sure the only beast in this gym is you, Stel.”

Most girls blush when you compliment their features. Stella O’Brien only gets rosy in the cheeks when you compare her to an untamed, savage animal.

“Gladyoucan see past my little frame.” I wince at the words, deciding now is not the best time to expose myself for that particular comment.

“Yeah, well, hard not to when you mercilessly pummelled me outside the club last month. Those bruises took weeks to fade, you know. Had to come up with a story to tell the guys in the changeroom.”

Throwing her head back, Stella lets out a laugh that has my body feeling bruised in a whole different sort of a way.

“You totally deserved it. You were an absolute ass that night.”

She’s not wrong. That was the infamous night Hunter permanently marked himself in my bad books. The physical intervention I imposed on their make out session was not the politest course of action, but it got the job done.

“Don’t know if anyone has ever told you this, but violence is not the answer. There’s this thing called conversation and it works wonders with confrontation.”

Stella smirks, “Could conversation have been more appropriate than carrying me out of the club like some wannabe firefighter?”

I narrow my eyes, my people-pleasing tendencies long forgotten as I stare down the miniature firecracker in front of me.

“I performed that carry correctly, so technically I wasn’t a wannabe.”

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