Page 108 of Wild Catch
And her smile falters.
I punch the button to slow my treadmill the hell down until I’m able to step off. I push that rogue strand of hair behind my ear and stalk toward the nearest machine, which is the pullup bar. The best part is how my back is to Rose so I don’t have to see her get flirted with by the vultures. Gnashing my teeth, I grab onto the handles, cross my legs at my ankles, and go to town.
We haven’t talked ever since she kissed my cheek and I had to go off to play a game. Neither of us has reached out to the other. There have been no chance encounters in the facilities. And now that the ruse is up with the team, I take it as my cue to go back to how things were before the publicity stunt.
We’re perfect strangers.
It makes my chest all weird, like I’m missing a lung or something.
Yeah, I understand what’s happening. I’m not a clown like Rivera or Starr. I have a thing for Rose, one that’s deep enough that I can’t stop thinking about her. A thing that’s as loud as the roar of a lion.
But then I remember how my parents talked about her. And how Lewis pushed her around like it was no big deal—like scaring her was fun. And then I remember the look of shock and anger and hurt in her face, and the fact that she tried to hide the bruise on her chest. Then that roar turns into a pitiful little mewl.
I can’t put her through that again. And if I’m not going to grow a pair and ask her out, I have no right to feel as jealous as I am.
“Hey, Lucky. Is it okay if I get a shot of your butt?” Rose asks nearby and I swear I could rip this bar off the machine and slam it on Rivera’s head.
“Shouldn’t you be getting some good shots from Kim?” he asks instead, preserving the integrity of his skull. “We may know what’s what, princesa, but the public doesn’t know yet.”
“Uh…”
“Also, look at him.” Starr pauses before saying, “His clothes are so skimpy, he’s the perfect thirst trap right now.”
“You know, I hadn’t noticed but it’s true. That’s a really skimpy tank top. You should definitely snap that, it’ll go viral,” is Machado’s contribution.
Skimpy?
Are these—and here I interrupt my train of thought to grimace—are these fools trying to help me or humiliate me even more?
“I’m—” about to tell them to screw all the way off to the sun when Rose speaks.
“Is it okay?”
I pause in the middle of a pullup and glance back at her. “What?”
“If I take some footage of you?” she asks me, her expression devoid of any hint of excitement.
“Fine,” I grunt, returning my focus to my workout.
“Make sure to get his lats,” Rivera instructs. “What with him showcasing them and all that.”
I’m wearing one of those tanks that are basically open on the sides. I like them because they help me cool down faster, especially in this muggy Central Florida summer from hell.
“Thanks, Lucky. Any other must-have angles?” Rose sounds amused.
The alluded hums from his throat. “The arms, I guess. Women like those.”
“Just get the whole man in frame,” says Starr. “Women like allthat.”
“Are you objectifying me?” I ask with a grunt that sounds pained.
“Not gonna lie, maybe a little,” he responds without shame.
With a huff, I hop off the machine. By this point my face is drenched in sweat and I lift my tank top to wipe it off. The stooges—all three of them, now including Machado—start wolf whistling and I turn to glare them down. Except that makes it all worse.
Because Rose has her camera trained on me the whole time. And the camera lowers to my midriff. Which is bare right now.
“Now that’s just too much.” Rivera is in stitches as he waves his hands in the air. “That’s just gonna melt the internet.”
