Page 42 of The Love Lie
Again.
And again.
And again.
Everything falls away. This is her favorite thing about cardio kickboxing—the ability to lose herself in the movements. Brain focused. Muscles burning. Wayward thoughts gone. It’s just her and her target. Her and her body. Her and her fists and her feet smashing into every inch of that gorgeous, sculpted man she’s dying to touch…but can’t.
“Whoa! Watch it, killer!”
Sam snaps back to the world as his hand closes around her fist, stopping it two inches shy of his sternum. She’s heaving and out of breath. Sweat drips over her arms as the sun beats down. The appreciative gleam in Cooper’s eye tells her he’s been watching, but there’s no way to know for how long. She should feel victorious that it was his turn to ogle her. Instead, she can’t help but notice how close they’re standing, how broad his shoulders are, how much he towers over her, and yet how utterly safe she feels being held at his mercy.
It’s terrifying.
Sam yanks her hand free. He lets go right away with an easy smile, that little pucker in his cheek practically winking at her.
“Picturing anyone specific with those punches, Cuj?”
“Yeah. You.” He barks out a laugh at her unexpected honesty. She raises her arms overhead and starts stretching, feigning a nonchalance she doesn’t quite feel. “I need to get my aggression out somehow.”
“Aggression, huh? Is that what you’re calling it?”
“Don’t make me drop-kick you.”
“I’d love to see you try.”
“Careful what you wish for, cowboy,” she warns while lifting her heels to stretch her quads. “My father is a police chief and he made sure I knew self-defense before I moved to New York. I could end you.”
“Now that you mention it, I do remember one of the guys saying Em accidentally knocked him out.”
She glances up while reaching for her toes. “Really?”
“Yeah. He pretended to grab her from behind and she flipped him.”
Sam smirks. “Go, sis.”
“The Peters girls are not to be messed with. Noted.” His eyes twinkle. “But my offer still stands. I can think of a more fun way to get out your…aggression.”
Just like that, the heat notches up. She remembers what he said last night.Just because something’s fleeting doesn’t mean it can’t be fun.Flings are usually her modus operandi. Keep it light. Keep it exciting. Keep it quick. But something in her gut screams it would be different with him, and things are complicated enough as it is.
“Not today, Satan.”
Cooper snorts. “I like it better when you call me cowboy.”
She walks backward toward the door while keeping her eyes on him as if at any moment he might pounce. If he makes a move, likereallymakes a move, she’s not sure she’ll be able to resist.
“I have work to do.”
“You’re running.”
Hell yes, she’s running. Has he seen himself?
Her back hits the door. “Bye, Coop.”
She turns the knob and bolts inside before he has time to respond. Those eyes track her all the way to her room, burning into her skin like lasers, even through the window. A shot of espresso and a cold shower later, she can still feel them.
Sam tries to sink into work, but it’s too tedious. Crunching numbers. Transferring notes. Blah. Blah. Blah. She’s an analyst. She knows it’s the job. She gets the brainless grunt work while all the interesting stuff goes to her bosses—corporate hierarchy and whatnot. She gets it. This is the hazing she needs to survive in order to gain entrance to the club. But her skin still buzzes. Her heart still pounds. If she wants to oust that freaking cowboy from her brain once and for all, she needs more. So even though she has a million other things to do that she actually gets paid for, she flips over to her favorite little folder labeledEmily Ann Designsinstead.
When her sister left for filming, she asked Sam to keep an eye on her jewelry business. So, naturally, Sam took it upon herself to completely revamp Emily’s website, move her off Etsy, and launch her own shop. Her sister’s social media accounts had been going bananas ever since she’d been cast as the lead, and it seemed like a waste not to set up an independent online store to keep more of the profits. Over the past few weeks, orders had been coming in like hot cakes. Not dozens. Not hundreds.Thousands.Emily had a mild panic attack about being able to fulfill them all when she heard the update, but Sam knew she’d figure it out. This was the dream, after all, the whole reason her sister had done the show in the first place—to build her business.
