Page 13 of You're All I Need

I move to the back of the room and start to do some stretches. My plan is to get a two-mile run in on one of the treadmills and then some arm workouts. That’ll leave me with enough time to shower in the locker room and change into fresh clothes before heading to dinner.

The gym is active, considering its quitting time for the nine-to-fivers, but I’m able to grab a free treadmill in front of the picture windows. I ignore the runners to my left and right and start the machine. I find my workout playlist as I gradually start to pick up speed. By the time Nirvana is pumping through my ears, I’m up to my jogging pace and start to pound out my two-mile run. The machine to my left stops and out of the corner of my eye, I spy the man using it wiping it down. He tosses the wipe into the trash bin between our machines and walks away.

No sooner than the machine is vacated is someone stepping onto it. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as the man presses buttons on the screen. His arm is corded with muscles, and I can’t help but notice his long, strong fingers as they work. A shiver sweeps through my limbs, and I have to close my eyes to stop staring. Of course, that doesn’t help my dirty mind because all I can see are those damn fingers.

I quickly open my eyes, determined to shake off the images plaguing me and so I don’t accidentally stumble and fall. Pressing the button, I increase my speed to a swifter pace than normal. I’m hoping I can run away from the naughty things my brain wants to picture.

Those fingers.

The muscles.

The delightful things I envision the owner of said arms and fingers doing to my naked body.

Jeez, Adrienne, you need to get laid.

Sighing, I glue my eyes to the window and watch as the town moves about. There are several people walking upand down the sidewalk, many of them heading to the Mexican restaurant just down the street. My stomach rumbles, and even though I can’t hear it over the heavy beat of my music, I can feel it. I’m starving for someone who ate a large lunch at Burgers and Brew earlier.

Movement catches to my left again as the man starts to drum his fingers against the machine. It’s a fast beat, as if he’s playing along to either the music pumping through the gym speakers or his own device. Unable to control myself, I glance his way, leisurely taking in the thick arms and the visible tattoos on his right arm. Familiarity slides through my veins, forcing my eyes to continue their trek to the man’s face. The moment I meet his humored gaze, he grins widely, making my lady bits throb with desire.

Caden continues his run, clearly enjoying whatever music he’s listening to, and I find myself enjoying my own run. I can feel his eyes on me, and it takes every ounce of control I possess not to keep looking back at him. Instead, I focus on completing my two miles without tripping over my own two feet and falling flat on my face.

When I reach my desired distance, I slow down the machine and begin my cool down. I walk briskly for five minutes before slowly starting to back it off. After shutting down the machine, I grab a wipe and run it over the screen, buttons, and handles. Finally, I step off the treadmill, meet Caden’s gaze, offer him a wink, and make my way over to the bicep curl machine since it’s not in use.

I take my position and count out my first ten reps. Just as I’m starting my second set, I see a shadow fall over me. I don’t have to look to confirm who it is. Caden is standing beside me, watching. I complete my third set and stand up, pulling my earbuds out and turning to meet his gaze.

“Good afternoon, sugar,” he croons, his voice like honey dripping over my feverish skin.

“Well, hello again,” I sing, wiping down the machine.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here around this time,” he says, leaning against the cable machine.

“I usually come before work.”

“Dinner?” he blurts out, a mischievous gleam in his eye that matches his grin.

“Already have plans,” I tell him, moving to another machine.

He tsks, moving to stand directly in front of me, invading my personal space. Despite the fact he was just running and sweating, he smells good. It’s all musky and manly and I’m pretty sure my clit starts to cry with need. “What’s it gonna take for you to have dinner with me?”

Leaning forward until we’re practically nose to nose, I tap my fingers against his hard chest and murmur, “You seem like a very resourceful man, cowboy. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

With a wink, I walk away, feeling his eyes on me every step of the way.

Chapter Five

Caden

Her ass.

Damn, I’m like a dog in heat watching her strut away. Add in the fact she’s wearing tight workout leggings and a tank top that barely contains her ample chest. And those curves? I could get lost for days exploring the hourglass shape of her body. She’s a walking wet dream.

But what I want to know now is who in the hell she’s having dinner with. Not that it’s any of my business, but that doesn’t abate the fact I want to know.

This weird feeling settles in my chest, and I rub my hand across it to try to force it away. The thought of Adrienne going on a date with some nameless jackoff doesn’t sit well with me, which is wild because I pride myself on not letting those pesky little things irritate me. But here I am, ready to abandon the rest of my workout so I can find out who she’s meeting.

Why the hell does that bother me? I’ve never cared before.

Deciding some free weights will get me out of my own head, I turn up the volume on my earbuds and ignore everyone around me. Usually, I would enjoy some of the gym bunnies walking around, flaunting what God gave them as they try to grab a bit of attention. But today, I’m just not feeling it. I keep my nose to the mat, so to speak, and complete my workout.

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