Page 2 of Front Runner
He raised a brow at my biceps. “Please. You’re cut, and those muscles didn’t appear all on their own. I’m too pretty to have you coming out swinging.” Mac rubbed his jaw and shuddered.
That earned a full laugh as I finished loading up the weight and took my starting position. “I’m going light today.”
He whistled and moved behind me. “Sure you are.”
I worked in silence for the first two sets. To my surprise, Mac’s eyes stayed on the bar instead of my ass. By the third set, I was feeling the pull in my muscles, and curiosity got the better of me.
“Do you always come here late at night?”
His eyebrows rose. “I could ask you the same question, but no. I usually come during the day with the team. My nights are reserved for the cheerleaders.”
“The cheerleaders?”
“Yeah, I let them use my body for practice.”
I pressed my lips together to keep the laugh in and focused on my form—a slow squat down, then back up. “At least you’re upfront about it.”
He tsked at me with a gleam in his dark eyes. “Cheer practice, RJ. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
His answer made me pause. “Like you throw them in the air and stuff?”
“Yeah, they bring the skill, I bring the muscle. At least until they decide what they want to do and call in the professionals.”
I could imagine that. Mac had an aura of coiled energy, like he just needed an excuse to let it out. “I suppose it can’t be any worse than football practice.”
“You like football?”
I focused on finishing my reps before responding, but Mac didn’t want to wait. He nodded at my butchered shirt in the mirror.
“SWU football. Plus, you’re here in the football weight room.”
I re-racked and wiped sweat from my forehead, deciding to go with the simple truth. “I like football.”
He grinned with all the enthusiasm of a golden retriever. “Hell yeah, RJ—”
An annoyed voice interrupted him before he could say more. “Dammit, Mac. You can’t bring girls in here.”
We both turned, and my new quarterback scowled at me. “You can’t be in here.”
I’d been so focused on what to tell Mac, that I hadn’t heard him approach. Parker Shaw stood a few inches taller than my six-foot frame with messy black hair, sharp features, and piercing blue eyes. All my research hadn’t prepared me for the intensity I saw there, nor the way my heart suddenly took off.
If Mac was a cute golden retriever, this guy was a wicked guilty pleasure—like a fallen angel that clearly thought very little of my dazed gawking. What the fuck was wrong with me?
His eyes narrowed, and he broke our staring contest to grunt at Mac. “You know better, man. Ball bunnies aren’t allowed in the training facilities.”
The insult finally knocked my brain free from whatever sleep-deprived lust bubble I’d been trapped in. “Excuse me?”
Parker sighed. “No offense, but there are a million other places you guys could hook up. Try one of those.”
I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or kick him in the shin. Probably not the second one, since I wanted him uninjured for football reasons. Before I could correct him, Mac slung an arm around my shoulders.
“No hookups this time. I was just doing a little late-night training with my girl, RJ.”
Parker’s jaw ticked as he stared at Mac’s arm. “Then train somewhere else.”
His voice oozed with disapproval, but he dismissed us to search around beneath one of the nearby machines. I shrugged off the heavy weight of Mac’s arm and started removing plates from the bar to prep for the next exercise. Parker could issue all the orders he wanted, but I wasn’t done with my session yet.
Mac scooted closer to sit on the bench next to Parker’s crouched form. “You going to the frat party tonight?”