“Now what the hell am I supposed to look at?” he complains.
“Go lift your weights and stop harassing the gym’s clientele.”
I spend the next half hour riding the bike and then decide to run on the treadmill. At least there’s a bar I can grab onto if I fall. Ryan has been getting a kick out of teasing me about my fear of breaking anything that has to do with my legs.
I increase the incline and set the speed for a quick-paced run. I scan the gym until I spot Ryan by the free-weights. He’s lying on the incline bench doing sets of chest presses. While he’s focused on his workout, I take a moment to ogle over his muscular body. When his eyes flick to mine and he catches me gawking, he gives me an egotistical grin, which I shake my head at.
We spend the next hour going back and forth like this, although I catch him a lot more than he catches me. Walking across the gym, he stands in front of my treadmill, leaning against it while I continue to run.
“You trying to kill yourself?”
“No,” I say breathlessly, “Just building endurance.”
His cocky grin returns, and when I side-step off the tether, I smack him and clarify, “Not for that! For dancing, you perv.”
I take his hand as he helps me off the machine, and we walk over to grab some water. I drain my bottle quickly and toss it in the trash. After I towel off my face and neck, we head outside, and I welcome the cold drizzle that’s falling.
On the drive back to my place, Ryan mentions the party that Gavin is throwing this weekend. Wondering if I still wanted to go, he assures me it’ll be a small crowd, so I tell him yes.
We’ve hung out with Gavin several times in the past few weeks. He has since apologized to me for making that comment to me at Ryan’s loft. I could tell he felt bad about it, so I brushed it off. He’s very crass with his words, but he’s really funny at the same time. The party, if nothing else, will at least be amusing with him there.
?????
Walking into Gavin’s house, Ryan is greeted by several people. Keeping a firm grip on my hand, he introduces me to a few guys before Gavin walks up and throws his arm around me.
“It’s about time you guys showed up. Help yourself to whatever is in the kitchen.”
“Hey, Gav.”
“Hey, gorgeous. I can’t believe you haven’t left this ass-hat for me yet.”
“If it weren’t for your delicate language, I might consider it.”
“Leave her alone,” Ryan says as he pulls me away and into the kitchen to grab a couple of beers.
As he’s opening my bottle, I notice a tall blonde eying him. When he hands me my bottle, he leans down and gives me a chaste kiss then leads me back to the living room. We sit on the couch and Ryan begins chatting with two guys that he knows. I sip on my beer and only catch bits and pieces of their conversation. I like that he never takes his hand off of my knee while talking to them; that he’s always so aware of me.
I scan the room and spot Gavin who is talking with the blonde I saw in the kitchen. Her hair is long, about the length of mine. She wears her makeup in a sultry way, opposite of my simple mascara and lip-gloss.
When both she and Gavin turn their heads and look at me, I immediately shift my eyes to Ryan. Looking back at me, he squeezes my knee, and Gavin flops down next to me.
“What’s up?”
“Were you talking about me?”
“God you’re paranoid,” he teases and nudges my leg.
“I’m gonna go get another drink.” Scooting forward on the couch, I ask Ryan if he wants another beer.
“Yeah, babe. Thanks.”
I grab his empty bottle and make my way into the kitchen, tossing them into the trash. Opening the fridge, I grab two more and when I turn around, the tall blonde is standing next to me.
“Hi, I’m Gina,” she says politely and holds out her hand.
Sticking one of the bottles under my arm, I reach out my now free hand to shake hers.
“I’m a good friend of Gavin and Ryan.”
“Oh. I’m Candace.”
“They’ve never mentioned you before.”
“I just met Gavin a few weeks ago,” I say.
“So are you and Ryan . . .?”
“What?” I question, not quite sure what she is trying to ask me.
A grin begins to spread across her face when she leans in and says, “He’s good, isn’t he?”
I back away from her face and say, “Excuse me?”
“Oh, come on. Everyone knows what he’s like.”
What the hell is this girl’s deal? Did he sleep with her? Thoughts start flooding my mind, and I just want to leave. Jealousy fills me when she says, “I’m a little surprised by you though. You don’t seem to fit his type.”
“Excuse me,” I say as I start to walk away. I don’t know this girl, but I hate her nonetheless.