Page 49
Why the hell was my mouth so dry? I swallowed, trying to get my voice to work and willing it not to come out sounding breathy and turned on. Because I was. Something about watching all of his muscles ripple under his skin as he moved was tantalizing. And for some fucking reason, that desire to lick the sweat off his body was back…
“Oh, this is nothing,” I replied, fighting with my libido. “Wait ’til next week.”
At the other end of the studio, Stephens let out a frustrated groan, attempting to hold his balance. “Who taught you to count? This has been way more than ten seconds.”
“Okay, boys, on your backs,” Lisa called out, ignoring the jab. Probably because she had kept them down in that pulse longer than ten seconds, and if her smile was anything to go by, she did it on purpose.
“Oh, thank god,” Jimenez said, collapsing to the carriage.
“Feet in straps, Pilates V. You’re going to draw your legs in and then zip them back up.” She called out, showing off the move. “Low back stays glued to the carriage the whole time.”
“Cap, what the fuck did you do to piss your girlfriend off?” Stephens yelled. “Fix it…fast. Because I am positive she’s trying to kill us.”
“Why do you assume this is my fault?” Dalton’s response came out strained as he struggled to get the loop around his foot.
I laughed, deciding to help him out so they knew this wasn’t some form of group punishment.
Well, not entirely. I did enjoy watching men suffer a bit.
“You’re doing this because I want you to perform at your best. Pilates will make you faster and more stable on the ice. Plus, stronger obliques mean better puck control.” I looked around the room. “Trust me, you’ll thank me when you see the results.”
The class wound down with a series of stretches, and I stifled a laugh, watching them stumble off the machines. They were going to feel this tomorrow…or tonight, to be honest.
“It was so nice meeting you all,” Lisa said as they started to filter out. “Can’t wait to see you next week.”
The chorus of curse words had me dying.
“So,” Dalton began, leaning against the wall and watching me. “Turns out Pilates is…intense.” He gave a small chuckle, brushing a hand through his hair.
I rolled my eyes, collecting a few stray towels. “What, you thought it would be a walk in the park?”
“Maybe. I see women doing it all the time with ease. And, like an ass, I figured it was because the workout was easy, not that they might be strong.”
That was one of my favorite traits about Dalton. He wasn’t too prideful to admit when he was wrong or sexist, and he didn’t get angry about a woman being better than him at something. It made him that much more attractive.
“Next time, I’ll join in and show you how it’s done.”
He pushed off the wall, stepping into my space. “How about a private lesson?”
“Do you know how much those cost?” I teased.
“I’ve got money. Charge me for it, Coach.”
We both fell silent, the air between us buzzing as his eyes dipped to where I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. “Who do you think paid for this class?”
His brows furrowed for a moment before he barked out a laugh. “Did you seriously pay for this with the money I sent you?”
“I told you I didn’t want your money.”
All he did was hum and reach out to stroke my cheek. For a moment, it was just the two of us, surrounded by the quiet hum of the studio. “Come on a date with me this weekend.”
My breath caught in my throat at the request, and I froze. What would it mean if I went out with him? This was all supposed to be a show for work, but going with him somewhere…was that for show, too?
“I…” I struggled to figure out what I was feeling—what I wanted. “Gracie and I are super busy this weekend. Lots of plans,” I rushed out, stepping back.
His expression changed, blinking as if coming out of a fog. “Right, of course,” he started, dropping his hand away, tone shifting. The heat from a moment before evaporated, and my stomach dropped. It was as if I could feel the way a chasm was now placed between us. I should have felt relief, but instead it felt like my heart was placed in a vice grip.
“Um, I talked to my father yesterday—”
