Page 53 of Between the Blue
And how he lays his towel down on the bench of his choosing (always the second one in line) before going over to the water fountain to refill his bottle.
Which means I know now that I have approximately thirty seconds to commit to the risky move I’m about to make.
Thirty seconds to go for it.
I speed walk over to his bench, climbing up onto it and turning around so that I’m sitting down on top of the bar, situating my feet on the padded surface and gripping the bar for support.
Both physically and mentally.
When Ben comes back, he does a double take, just like I knew he would. His eyes flick between the bench where he is supposed to be laying down and where I sit on top of the bar he was intending to lift.
I take a deep breath, straightening my spine and raising a brow at him in defiance as he finishes screwing the lid back on to his water bottle. I continue to hold my ground as he sets the bottle down on the floor at his side, wiping his hands off on his gym shorts before standing back to his full height.
I’m convinced he’s about to say something. Because hehasto. He’s seen me. He can’t just ignore me. I havehim. Hehasto talk to me now.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, like he has all the time in the world, he grabs on to the lower hem of his black t-shirt, fisting the dark fabric andbringing it up to wipe the sweat from his face. I feel my mouth dry and throat threaten to close up as the full view of his chest and abs come into view, and force myself to speak through it, my eyes remaining glued to his covered face.
“I got you,” I state.
He pulls the shirt away from his face with a stern look in my direction. “Sorry?” he questions me, that subtle accent he has making an appearance once again. With the knowledge now that he’s a hockey player, it suddenly makes a whole lot more sense. I start to wonder again where he’s from, and even consider asking him, but I don’t, shaking the idea out of my head.
“I got you,” I repeat. “Now you have to talk to me about Friday.”
And then, Bennett James shocks me more than I think he has ever managed to shock me to date.
Helaughs.
A short, brief, but deep-bellied, genuine laugh. The kind that makes something in my chest tug. The kind that makes me wonder what it’d be like to hear it more often. And not for the sarcastic reason it’s clearly being used for now.
He takes a step forward then, looking more obviously between the bench and my face this time. “You think this is going to stop me, Cherry?” he asks, his voice nearly sinister.
My head tilts to the side, my mouth falling open to ask him what he means, but I don’t get to ask him.
Because he shows me.
In one entirely too smooth movement, Ben removes his baseball cap, dropping it at his feet and running a hand through his dark strands of hair.
Then, like he is completely unbothered, he plops down on the bench, lying flat on his back, his head landing just perfectly on the padded seat between my two feet.
“What the hell are you–”
I’m cut off by the gasp that comes out of my mouth in response to the swift motion of Ben sliding up on the bench, his face now directly below a part of myself I would never intend to have remotely this close to his face, much less only covered by a thin layer of spandex.
Self conscious, I immediately try to slam my knees together, having some difficulty with Ben’s body acting as a barrier between my feet.
Before I can find my bearings and scurry off the bar, Ben has already gripped it on either side of my hips, blowing out a single breath as he begins to lift it.
“Ben!” I growl, practically toppling over backwards as I find my way back to my feet.
“Do you mind?” he grits, continuing his set like absolutely nothing just happened.
I’m thankful at this moment for how early in the morning it is, the few other early birds in the gym being spread out across the weight room in various sets of headphones and not paying us a bit of attention.
“Actually, I do,” I say, gripping the bar above him and pushing down. Not enough to keep him from pushing easily against me, but clearly enough to annoy him to the point of giving up. He drops the bar back into the rack above him, sitting up with a huff.
“I told you that you weren’t stopping me,” he says.
