“Wait.” He stops us halfway through a space that has skipping ropes whipping close by. “You know Trace?”
I smile at his childish grin. “Well, I don’tknowher personally.”
“Ha-ha, smartass. I meant, you know who Taylor Trace and Hillary Tate are?” He takes my arm again and we wind our way through dozens of sweaty men. “If you’re a fan of MMA, the women’s league even, what about Izzy surprises you so much?”
“I don’t know. I guess it’s that those other fighters are just on TV, you know? Completely removed from my real life. But she’s right here in front of me, which makes it more real. Andwayscarier. It’s not that other women can’t do it, just that someone like me couldn’t.”
“Well that’s just not true at all. I think you could fight.” We step into a hall and start moving past door after door. “You have the body for it. You’re tall, you have good muscle tone, and your arm and leg reach is awesome. It’d do amazing things for your confidence. You should totally train.”
My heart races as rejection floods my heart.
Is he teasing me? Did the side by side comparison of Izzy and I make him realize I’m a fat slob? I know logically that’s not what he said, but the humiliation burns anyway.
“Whoa.” We stop at the end of the hall, and grabbing my chin, Bobby brings my eyes back to meet his. “What’s the matter? What did I say?”
“It’s nothing. I’m okay.” I snap my face out of his hold before traitorous tears fall. “But I do have to get back to work. Could you please tell Jack I’ll be in the car? I have work to do and calls to make.”
“No, stop. I’m asking you, what did I say?” He steps in closer until he has me backed up against the wall. “You were fine a second ago, then I bring up training and you shut down on me? I’d never pressure you. You don’t have to. I just meant, youcoulddo it. You could do anything you wanted.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just…” I look away from his gaze. “I’m having a mini breakdown, and meeting Iz has me feeling a little… blah.”
His forehead creases in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… I’m not like Izzy, okay? I’m not like any of those girls, so I don’t get your interest. I know I need to lose weight, it’s just…”
“Wait up. Who said you needed to lose weight?”
“Well, you said I sh–”
“Learn to fight. Yes, I did. For many reasons, but not as a sneaky way to insult you. Listen to me, Kit.” He brings his large hand up to my chin and sends my heart hammering in my chest. I’m not used to being crowded by such big men. I’m tall; it’s hard to find a guy who can make me feel dainty. “I know fighting, okay? I know the human form, I know weight loss and muscle building. And I know, just from knowing you for a couple hours, that you’re uncomfortable in your skin. But I’ve also seen the fire in your eyes. Fighting could be a great fit for you.”
“Okay, but–”
“But what?”
“Izzy!” I throw my hands to the side in defeat. “I’m not like her, Bobby. She’s tiny and beautiful and sexy and badass. I’m just…”
“You’re beautiful.” His dark eyes come close to mine. “You’re badass, too. And sexy, and so very beautiful. And tall is amazing for a guy like me. I don’t want to bend in half just to kiss a girl.” His thumb runs along my jaw in rhythmic strokes. “And Izzy… is my sister. So don’t ever call her sexy again.”
“Your…” I. Die. “Your sister?”
“Well, she’s Jon’s sister.” He smirks. “But I changed her diapers at least a couple times, so quit that shit about her being sexy. You’re giving me the heebie-jeebies… But you need to know I suggested training because I love the sport. You have no clue how amazing you could be at it.” His hands slide down over my ribs the way they did when we danced. “You have the perfect body for it. You could blitz your divisions because you’re so tall. Your competitors would be shorter and heavier than you, which means no one could touch you. I promise – you let me train you, you won’t lose.”
“She’s your sister?”
He snorts in my face. “That’s all you heard? Jesus, woman.” He throws his arm over my shoulders and steers us toward a training room near the back of the gym. “Yes, she’s my sister. Yes, you’re beautiful. Yes, let’s finish this damn tour before I accidentally kiss you without asking first.”
In my mind, I’m throwing a hand up over my brow and melting into a puddle of goo on the floor. In real life, I let him lead me into Jack’s training room. Rubber mats line the floor, and bags line the wall. Jack’s class work in pairs, and unsurprisingly, I find Callum and Jack paired up, while Michael works with someone else.
Bobby pulls me toward the back wall. “We can sit here and watch, or… I can show you my office. I totally don’t mind the second option, though. I could probably find you a short skirt to wear and an old-style typewriter as a prop.”
I laugh softly and turn back to face the class. It’s endearing how cocky he is. “We’ll sit, thanks. You can play out your fantasies another day.”
He makes a big production about being disappointed and slides down the wall until he’s sitting on the floor. Still laughing, I join him, and although I didn’t mean it, once I sit, I realize our bodies are touching. His warmth runs all along the side of my body, from our shoulders and arms, to a flashfire where our thighs touch.
My heart performs a dangerousthump-thump-thumpat his nearness, but there’s no way in hell I’m moving. I couldn’t do it inconspicuously even if I wanted, and frankly, I don’t want to. It’s been a long three weeks of thinking about this man. It feels nice to sit beside him and laugh, and it feels even more amazing because we’re both wearing shorts – me in my cut-offs, and he in what must’ve been his training shorts – which means we’re touching skin to skin.
My body tingles with hyper awareness. Wisps of my own hair brush against my neck and shoulders from where they escaped my ponytail. His coarse leg hairs brush against my smooth legs. His large, strong shoulder rests against mine. I can smell him, manly and sweaty, but not in a gross smelly way. I kind of want to run my nose along his chest and neck. I want to taste him. I want to lean into him the way I could the first night we met when we spent hours dancing.
My eyes drag along his body; legs, arms, chest, neck. Eyes. Bobby’s lips turn up in that wolfish grin when I realize I’ve been caught staring.
Oh. My. God.