“You’re getting better,” Jace commented. He always started training before I showed up, with the result that he was done way before I was, and he spent the rest of my training time sitting on the abs bench in front of my cross-trainer, talking. That was fine by me. Better than fine, in fact. I liked talking to him. Plus... that view was simply to die for.
“Practice makes perfect, right?”
“I wasn’t expecting you to show up here so often.” He stood up, coming closer, arching one eyebrow. “Be honest. Is it because of me?”
I rolled my eyes, even though my knees had turned a little weak. “What can I say, Connor? You’re definitely helping.”
He grinned, leaning against one of the pillars, crossing his legs at the ankles and his arms over his chest. Belatedly I realized I’d been openly checking him out and cast my gaze away quickly, but I was certain he’d noticed.
“Your teammates had grand party plans tonight, and yet here you are, even though I’m pretty sure you would have stolen the show if you’d gone with them. Why is that? You can t
ell me, now that we’re friends and all.”
Jace’s smile dimmed, and I bit my lip. I didn’t want to spoil his good mood.
“I did enjoy the attention in the beginning, but it’s just brought around a lot of people who weren’t really interested in hanging with me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not so bad, I think I was just not used to it. But thank God we live in LA. My fifteen minutes of fame have passed.”
He moved slowly to my treadmill, bracing both hands on top of the console. I lowered my gaze to the cross-trainer’s display, which was why I was surprised when he grabbed my wrist. I looked at him questioningly when he pressed his thumb over my pulse point.
“You’re overexerting yourself again, Brooke. Slow down a bit.”
Right... because that was the only thing that had sent my pulse into overdrive. It wouldn’t have anything to do with the sexy-as-hell soccer player standing in front of me.
“Your fifteen minutes might return if you make the GQ list again,” I said.
“True. Attention always flares up around that time.”
“I bet you’ll top the list again.”
“Really? So you think I’m better-looking than the rest of the soccer players in the country?”
I thought he was better-looking than 99.9 percent of the population, but I kept that opinion to myself.
This time, Jace flashed me a shit-eating grin, winking.
“I think bias plays a role. You’ve been number one already, which makes you a favorite.”
I’d expected Jace to take offense, but if anything, he looked even more amused than before.
“You’re a shit liar, Brooke. You think I haven’t seen you looking before?”
I swallowed hard, trying to muster up an innocent smile. My stomach jolted, as if I’d missed a step. What was I supposed to say? I wasn’t sure how to navigate this. Our friendship was still new, and while Jace seemed the kind of guy who spoke his mind, I didn’t think that owning up to checking him out was smart. He’d probably laugh it off, but I ran the risk of him thinking I was one of his fangirls. And anyway, I couldn’t be attracted to Jace. I just couldn’t.
I decided to treat this as if it was a rhetorical question and didn’t answer it. Instead, I finished the last fifteen seconds on the treadmill, then stepped off. Jace moved right in front of me.
“Cat got your tongue, Livie?”
My eyes bulged. “That’s my dad’s nickname for me because my middle name is Olivia. How do you know this?”
“I did my research. Asked your Dad a bit about you, without making it obvious.”
I wrinkled my nose. That right there was a testament to Jace’s ability to sneak up on a person. Dad would never share that with anyone.
“You can’t use my dad’s nickname.”