Page 48 of Burnout
“Okay. Final attempt for today. You’ve got this. Core tight, chest high, control the rotations. Don’t overthink it.”
“Don’t overthink?” I snort a laugh. “You gave me a dozen things to remember and then you want me to not overthink.”
“Yeah, it’s just that easy.” She bats her lashes at me. I want to lean in and kiss her. Doubt that’s on her workout plan.
I get into position and mentally run through everything she’s said. My core is engaged, I’m standing tall, and when I push off, I focus on my body and the turns instead of tucking and rotating as fast as possible like I did on the others. I’m sure it’s going to end badly. But by some miracle, I finally manage to get around twice and land feetfirst in the pit.
She’s standing on the side, smiling at me as I make my way back to the edge to get out.
“Congrats. See? You just needed me to tell you not to overthink it.” She holds out a hand to help me out. I take it but instead of pulling myself up, I pull her down.
Avery squeals in surprise as she comes down next to me in the pit. Her shrieks turn to laughter as she surfaces.
“You big bully.” She shoves at my shoulder. Not hard, but I still retaliate by tossing a foam square at her. We’re in an all-out war soon, laughing and tossing foam at each other.
“Okay. Okay.” She holds one in front of her face. “Truce.”
She peeks out to see if I’m going to agree.
“Fine.” I hold up my hands in surrender, but as soon as she drops hers, I fire.
I can see her winding up to attack again, so I move toward her and wrap my arms around her to keep her from hurling more foam squares at my head.
“Let me go,” she says, half-heartedly, squirming to get her arms free.
“Put the foam square down first.”
“No!” She wriggles harder. The silky thin material of her leotard slides against my body. Between her outfit and me in only shorts, it’s hard not to notice how perfectly she fits against me.
I’ve been spending so much time training at the track and then here that I haven’t been doing much else. Notably missing from the calendar is sex. And I’m all too aware of it as her assburrows into my crotch. It only takes a second for her to realize what she’s grinding against. With a sharp inhale, she freezes.
“Truce.” The word comes out breathy. She tosses the square to prove she’s serious.
I let go of her and she practically leaps away. Embarrassment tinges her features, but then she reaches over for another foam square and tosses it directly at my face before climbing out.
I grin and follow behind her, then head to the door to get my stuff.
“Do you have study group tonight?” I ask as she slips on shorts over her leotard. I don’t know much about what she does outside of gymnastics, but I’m suddenly curious. Does she go out a lot? Party?
“No, but I do need to catch up on some homework,” she says casually. “What about you?”
“No studying for me.” I wink at her. “Well, what about tomorrow?”
She considers me. “Why are you suddenly so curious about my schedule? Are you planning to sneak up on me and fire foam at my head when I least expect it?”
“Tempting.” I laugh. “No, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out sometime.”
“We hang out every night.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Like a date?” she asks carefully.
“No. Not a date. A hang.”
“What’s the difference?”
God, she’s frustrating. “If you don’t want to, it’s no big deal.”
