Page 18 of Cruz

It’s almost a relief when Cruz stops, opens one of the doors, and steps inside.

Liam can’t keep a big grin from splitting his face. He’s still nervous, but I can tell that this is a safe place for him, one he enjoys spending time in. He waits for me and we step into the sprawling space together.

The gym isn’t like the typical ones for the public. This room is massive, and it reminds me of those basement boxing training gyms that you see on movies. There are several windows along the far brick wall that let in natural light. There aren’t any mirrors and there isn’t any typical cardio equipment. The back wall is lined with weights and kettlebells, while the whole other wall has more of the same kind of machines. I guess that part does look like the gym you can go buy a monthly membership to. The hardwood floor gleams under the lighting in the open beamed ceiling. Stacks of mats take up one whole corner, and beside that are a series of metal shelves with rolled yoga mats, foam blocks, tension bands, stacks of gloves, skipping ropes, and other thick ropes. There are even a few coils of chains, and quite a few things I have no idea what their use might be. Like most boxing based gyms, this room has a few punching bags over in the corner beside a series of windows with dark metal mesh over them. The glass is fogged, so they let in plenty of light, but I can’t see out onto the street, and no one can see in.

Cruz immediately walks to the mats and gathers up a stack so large that it doesn’t look like it should be humanly possible to carry it. Liam leaves me standing by the door to help Cruz lay them out. When they’re done, half the floor is covered, and it looks like we’re going to be practicing gymnastics tumbling.

A strange restlessness courses through me. I keep thinking about last night, replaying what it felt like to tumble into Cruz’s strong arms. They felt safe wrapped around me. Or rather, I felt safe. I tumbled out of that headstand, straight into something else entirely. Something shifted in me and woke up.

“Are you ready?” Cruz’s deep voice in that tone that suggests he’d rather eat rocks than force out words, cuts off my thoughts.

My head snaps up. “I have no idea.” I look to Liam helplessly. His smile is meant to encourage me, but it only makes me wary. “If you’re going to manhandle me to the ground or ragdoll me like a real criminal would, then probably not. Can you ever be ready for that?”

“He might flip you, but Cruz won’t hurt you. He’s good at this. Just trust him,” Liam coaxes.

“Flip me?” I choke. “What?”

“I don’t have to flip you.” Cruz looks pained at the effort of talking.

If we do this, will it be easier for him? I don’t want to admit to myself just how lovely his voice would sound if it softened just a little. Or how enticing it sounds as it is. Deep burrs and velvet purrs weren’t made for a man like him. My brain goes straight to thinking about just how much better rough edges and red flags are. And by better, I mean nope, not going there.

I let them flow through me and flow right on out. I’ve found that shutting down and shutting out doesn’t work, but the flow method? It’s tried and true.

“You do way harder stuff in yoga,” Liam reasons. “Trust me.” He points at the mat. He’s perfectly willing to do this in his worn jeans and t-shirt, but he sheds his leather jacket. He doesn’t toss it on the floor like he would at home. He actually walks to the door and hangs it up on the hooks on the back of it. “Do you want me to go first?”

I can handle this. I’m a grown ass woman, not a teenager with out-of-control hormones. I can pass off heavy breathing, an elevated pulse, and sweat as part of a workout. It’s only going to be platonic touching.

My heart still pounds hard, going full tilt unbridled against my ribcage.

I’m all good.

Until Cruz drops down into a ready stance on those mats, trying to be funny and non-threatening, I think, but all it does is accentuate his insanely powerful body.

“Actually…” I feign uncertainty. It’s not really pretending when you feel it, is it? “Do you want to go first?”

Without hesitation, Liam steps onto the mats. Cruz makes Liam look like a child in comparison. It’s not just Cruz’s face, all the hard carved angles and not a scrap of youth there, or the silver at his shaved temples. It’s his whole body. He’s filled out the way that older men get, with heavy stacked muscle. His arms are bigger than my thighs, and his chest is thick with boxed abs and hard pecs that are obvious under his t-shirt.

He’s ridiculously sexy, especially with all the veins running corded all down his arms. Despite his size, Cruz moves easily. He circles Liam, giving little hand gestures that the two of them obviously understand because they probably work out together and spar together often.

I swallow hard, but it’s not fear that has my whole body tense and swimming with heat.

Cruz circles Liam, all wild, harnessed power. He thrums with energy and vitality, but all of it is tightly leashed.

Until it’s not.

Out of nowhere, Cruz explodes. He goes at Liam, hands reaching for his shoulders, trying to slip around his neck. I gasp, all of my terrible focus turning to horror. Liam gets one hand up in front of his face, blocking his neck. He spins out of Cruz’s way, ducking low and going for his side. By the way they move together, it’s clear that they know what they’re doing, and no one is going to get hurt. I let out a slow, painful breath.

Cruz intercepts Liam’s blow, grabs his arm, and tries to spin him around to pin it behind his back. Liam lets him, but only so that he can kick up and try and nail Cruz right in the balls. I remember that this is supposed to be a demonstration for me. As in, what I can do to escape an attacker. Liam wouldn’t go so below the belt. Cruz sees it coming and grabs Liam around his chest. Liam quickly slashes his arms down, smashing them into Cruz so that he has to release his hold. Liam spins and lashes out, stopping just short of punching Cruz right in the throat. He lets his knuckles rest there, and grins at me over his shoulder.

“Do you think you can do that?”

I gulp. At least there weren’t any actual flips involved.

“Are you going to walk me through it?” I’m hopeful that Liam will spar with me and that Cruz doesn’t actually have to touch my body. He can instruct, but the second his hands are on me, I’m afraid that his touch will do something to me that I can’t undo. Or worse, that it’ll unravel a whole lot of stitches that I can’t sew back up.

“Sure.” Liam holds out his hand. “Come here. Face Cruz.”

Would it sound churlish to tell Liam that’s not what I mean? Likely. I grind my teeth together and steel my will. I walk across the mats, feeling as though I’m about to meet my freaking destiny. Not in a good way. Destiny meaning doom.