Page 45 of Recklessly You
Me:Whatever you want, baby.
Mi Bella:Okay…oh, and come in your uniform. I’ll take it off for you.
Fuck me. I love how straightforward she is. When I look up from my phone with a grin, John’s watching.
“Told ya,” he mouths.
Yup, I’m fucked.
CHAPTER 15
SOPHIE
My gaze hits the rows of workout machines and weights, searching for Daliah. I spot her in the back of the gym. Yesterday, she asked if I wanted to join her in some workout class. I didn’t bother to ask what kind of class. Maybe yoga? Walking toward her, I scrutinize the place. It’s a mid-sized gym, not too big or too small. I expect a separate room for the classes, but no, it’s all out in the open. It’s a good thing I don’t know anyone here. I usually get up early and go for a run, but since Daliah invited me to join the class, I decided to change my routine—I’ll go for a run tonight.
“Hey, Daliah. Good morning.”
She looks half-asleep at six a.m. “Morning.”
“So, what class are we doing?”
“I think it’s called heat high-energy athletic training.”
My eyes bulge out like a fish. I’ve never worked out with equipment. I enjoy running. Just the name of the workout makes it seem pretty intense. I hope I don’t make an ass of myself.
“Have you done this class before?”
She shakes her head. “No, it’s actually my first time here. I need to get myself in shape,” she says with a yawn. Most of the people in the class are women, of all ages. Some whisper about how great the instructor is, fawning over him.
“All right, ladies, let’s get in our stands and start with stretches. For those who are new, my name is Luis, and I’ll be your instructor.”
I understand why the women are fawning over him, with his peppered hair, sharp cheekbones, tanned skin, and well-built physique.
Twenty minutes in—O.M.G. I’m dying. My body is screaming as I finish my hundredth burpee. Muscles quivering, heart pounding, and sweat dripping from my forehead, I gulp frantically from my water bottle, desperate for relief. Daliah, just a few feet away, looks in a similar state of exhaustion, with her hands resting on her knees and chest rapidly rising and falling.
“We still have thirty minutes to go,” Daliah cries, panting between breaths.
“Oh, God, what did we get ourselves into? Am I really this out of shape?” I whine, splashing water on my face.
Luis comes toward us with a smile of satisfaction. “Ladies, ladies, hands on the back of your head and take a few deep breaths. Do you feel the burn?”
“More than that. I feel death near,” Daliah cries out.
“Awesome, ladies. It means you’re doing good.” Luis claps his hands. “All right, everyone, grab your kettlebells and watch for your neighbor. You don’t want to knock them out.” He laughs.
“I can do this,” I say to myself when Luis instructs us to do three sets of twenty kettlebell swings. With a deep breath, I grab the black kettlebell off the ground and lift it up to chest level. As Luis counts down from twenty, I swing it back and forth between my legs, feeling the muscles in my hips and arms burn with each repetition. When he finally tells us we’re done, I’m relieved but proud of myself for pushing through. Luis gives us a five-minute water break. I chug a stream of water. Grabbing a towel, I wipe the sweat trickling down my chest into my sports bra.
Feeling eyes on me, I glance around the now-crowded gym. My gaze comes to a complete halt as it lands on Liam, squatting in front of the rack of weights. His white tank top is completely soaked with sweat, and his arms are straining beneath the heavy barbell he’s holding. His muscles ripple as they span across his chest, bulging in all the right places, holding up a multitude of weights. My breath hitches, watching him squat effortlessly. And he’s staring at me.
Holy guacamole, mother of God, sweet baby Jesus.
After I’m done praising the lord and guacamole for this man, I turn my gaze to Luis, who’s shouting for us to get jump ropes.
Oh, God, what is Liam doing here? I mean, I know why he’s here, but why couldn’t it be another gym? Has he been watching me make a fool of myself? Sweating like a pig and gasping for air as if my lungs were being retrieved from my body. He’s not alone. He’s with Dominic, Santiago, Mark, and some other guys. Reaching into the box of jump ropes, I stand inches away from Daliah, who’s red as a tomato, and I’m positive I look the same.
Luis claps his hands and shouts, “All right, guys, let’s get our hearts pumping with a hundred jumps.”
Everyone groans. A hundred will definitely have my heart pumping until it explodes. The last time I jumped rope was back in elementary school with Margaret and I jumped and sang the song Cinderella while jumping. Margaret, who is now my ex-friend, slept with Eric. Yup, it was Margaret. The audacity of that woman.
