Page 40 of Gym With Benefits

"Hunter.” My voice cut through the overhead pop music like a cleaver. "As a representative of this establishment’s administrative and therapeutic framework, you need to intervene. We have an active hazard on the property. A problematic client who’s making the environment hostile for everyone else."

He blinked, his easy smile faltering as he took in my posture. His eyes did a quick, concerned sweep of my face. "Uh, I’m not sure what—"

“It’s Dane,” I cut him off. “He’s an ass.”

Dane rolled his eyes, letting out a theatrical sigh. "Are you seriously ratting me out to teacher? What’s next, a note to my mother?"

"Dane, knock it off," Hunter said, then looked at me with an expression that was entirely too intense for a Saturday. "And I'm not a hall monitor. If there's an issue, you two need to unpack—"

"I don't need to unpack anything," I snapped, gesturing wildly toward the glass doors. "I need Lurch over here to learn how a parking lot works, and to stop acting like a prepubescent."

"The spot was vacant, and my entry was clean," Dane said, looking down at me. "You’re just mad because your little lawnmower engine couldn't keep up."

"That lawnmower has excellent fuel economy, you giant primate."

"It’s a rolling traffic obstruction," Dane fired back.

Hunter raised his hands, looking back and forth between us like a man caught in the middle of a tennis match where the ballwas a ticking bomb. "Okay, let’s take a breath. The hostility here is clearly masking a deeper—"

"Stay out of it, Hunter," we both said in unison, not even looking at him.

Hunter took a step back, and gave a silent salute of surrender. There was no point in mediating something that couldn’t be salvaged. He knew it as well as I did.

I glared at Dane, my heart rate already racing along despite not having started any cardio. "Just stay out of my way. I mean it."

"You stay out of mine," he countered, his posture straightening into nothing short of a brick wall.

We stood there, locked in a rigid stare-off. The space between us was tight with a ridiculous, stubborn energy. Neither of us blinked. Neither of us yielded an inch of territory.

Then, with no verbal cue whatsoever, we both broke.

It was an instantaneous, simultaneous sprint toward the double doors leading into the Sweat Sanctuary. We hit the threshold at the exact same moment, our shoulders colliding with a dull, fleshy impact. Dane used his bulk to try and wedge me against the doorframe, but I dropped my center of gravity and threw a vicious elbow into his ribs, forcing just enough space to squeeze through.

"Just don't break anything!" Hunter’s voice echoed behind us, but he was the last thing I was bothered about.

I scrambled past the rack of medicine balls, my eyes locked on the prize at the far end of the turf—the single, pristine leg press machine that wasn't leaking hydraulic fluid. I was going to get my workout, my way, even if I had to tackle a man twice my size to do it.

My sneakers skidded on the black rubber flooring as I flung my body onto the padded seat of the leg press, locking down the territory as triumphantly as a flag planted on the moon.

"Yes," I wheezed, death-stare dialed up to maximum.

Dane pulled up short, his gym bag swinging forward with enough momentum to clip my knee. He stared down at me, his chest heaving beneath that compression shirt. "You run like a chicken."

"Yeah, well, this chicken just beat your ass in a sprint, so eat me."

His one eyebrow shot up at my choice of words, but I was too high on adrenaline to dissect it. It’d be a cold day in hell before he got close enough to sniff me, let alone t—

“You wish, princess.”

“Screw you.”

I reached blindly behind my head for the lever to adjust the seat. My fingers hit metal, pulled a pin, and the backrest collapsed with a violent clatter, leaving me lying completely flat, staring up at the ceiling lights.

Dane hollered with laughter that was way more emphatic than it needed to be. Just to rub it in.

"Outstanding form,” he said, taking up the leg press next to mine. “I think I’ll give the dead bug position a try on my next set."

"Leave me alone," I muttered, hauling myself upright. My fingers were slick with nervous sweat as I fumbled with the locking mechanism, trying to figure out which hole the steel pin belonged in. It was a humiliating reminder that despite my recent progress with Brock, the mechanical geometry of the weight room was still an alien language.