More to Us (7 page)

"So...we meet again." I toss my towel over my shoulder and lean against the weight machine next to hers.

She's staring at me, a shocked look on her face. "You belong to this gym?" She doesn't sound happy about it.

"Yeah. I have for the past five years."

"Great," she mumbles to herself. She turns back to her machine. "Well, enjoy your workout."

I go around the machine and face her. "You trying to get rid of me?"

She looks up at me, a scowl on her face that I find to be more cute than angry. "I don't like players, so I'd appreciate it if you'd just go away."

"Player? I'm not a player."

She puts her hands on her hips. "Then what the hell was last night? Why did you lie to me? You introduce yourself, I ask you about the band, and you don't even bother to tell me you're in it?"

"That doesn't make me a player. And I didn't lie to you. I told you I like their music and that I went to all their concerts. All true." I smile, trying to make a joke of it because that's all it was supposed to be. I was just kidding around, but I guess she didn't take it that way because she seems really mad.

"I don't know what kind of game you were playing but it wasn't funny. I felt like an idiot. I told my friends I met this guy named Austin and they said you were in the band and I kept insisting you weren't. You know how stupid I felt not knowing?"

"You told your friends about me?" I'm trying to be serious like Kira is, but I have to smile at the fact she told her friends about me after meeting me for just a few minutes. I did the same thing, telling Dylan and Van about her. I never tell them about a girl I like until I'm actually dating her. Otherwise I have to deal with hearing their stupid comments or advice. But for some reason, I felt the need to tell them about Kira.

She huffs. "I only told them about you because they asked if I talked to anyone while I was waiting for them. I told them this nice guy got me a table, but that was before I knew you lied to me." She goes to pull the pin out of the weights but it's stuck so she tugs on it repeatedly.

"Hey." I hold her wrist, stopping her. "I AM a nice guy. I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was in the band. You're right. I should've told you."

She glances at my hand on her wrist and pulls it back, placing it at her side. "Then why didn't you?"

"Because when you said you didn't know who I was, I was surprised. And relieved. Every girl I meet knows I'm part of Vandyl and sometimes I wonder if that's the only reason they talk to me, or want to go out with me."

She rolls her eyes. "Seriously? You really think that's the only reason?" Her eyes move down my body, then back up at my face. "Have you looked in a mirror lately?"

"What? Because I have muscles? That doesn't mean anything. A lot of guys work out." I motion to the free weights where there are at least five guys as big as me lifting weights.

Her eyes go to them, then back to me. "Yeah, it's uh, not quite the same."

"And why is that?" I try to be serious, but knowing she thinks I'm hotter than those other guys makes me smile.

She rolls her eyes again. "I'm not going to stand here and give you compliments. The bottom line is that you lied to me last night and made me feel like an idiot in front of my friends." She turns away and sits on the machine next to the one she was trying to use. It's the lat press but when she goes to use it, she realizes she forgot to adjust the weight. It's set with two hundred and forty pounds which is probably twice what she weighs.

I reach behind her and take the pin out of the weights. "What do you want it at?"

She sighs. "Sixty."

I replace the pin, then come around in front of her. "I'm sorry, okay? I really am. The only reason I didn't tell you is because I liked the fact that you didn't know who I was. I wasn't lying when I said that I'm never sure if a girl really likes me for me, or because I'm in a band. So when I realized you didn't know, I wanted to keep it going and see if you'd go out with me because you like me, not because I'm in a band." I smile. "I knew you weren't interested in me just for my body because it was dark so you couldn't see all this." I motion to myself.

She finally smiles, but just barely. "I could see it."

I lean back against the machine behind me and cross my arms over my chest. "So you're saying you only talked to me because of how I look?"

"Yep." She faces forward and does another rep, her arm and shoulder muscles flexing. I love this girl's body. Strong and lean, yet soft and curvy in all the right places.

"That's really shallow," I say, moving in front of her. "I gotta say, I'm a little offended."

She laughs. "Yeah, I'm sure you are. Now would you move please?"

I stay where I'm at, facing her, my feet planted right in front of hers. "You've got plenty of space. Full range of motion."

She extends her arms again, breathing through the move. "Maybe I don't want you standing there while I'm trying to lift weights."

Her eyes are on mine as she does another rep. She has gorgeous eyes, a deep brown with flecks of gold. And her mouth. I love her lips. With each rep, my eyes go to those lips as she forces out a breath. I feel another twitch in my shorts. Damn, I need to stop looking at her or the twitch is going to be a lot more than that and I'll embarrass myself.

"Go out with me," I blurt out.

"What?" she asks, her arms fully extended in the move.

"Go out with me." I say it again because it's already out there and I know she heard me the first time. "Just once. Dinner. Coffee. Whatever you want."

"No," she says as she brings her arms back, completing the move.

She turned me down. Again.

What's the deal with this girl? She admitted she's attracted to me, so why won't she go out with me?

Kira

"Then don't think of it as a date," Austin says. "Think of it as an apology for not telling you I was in the band. I'll take you to dinner."

"You already apologized. You don't have to take me to dinner." I continue on the lat press but I've lost count of my reps. My muscles are starting to ache but I keep the motion going to distract me from Austin, who I've now decided is the hottest guy I've ever seen, at least in person. Last night in the bar, I couldn't really see him that well, but now, in the bright light of the gym, I'm able to get a good look at him, and holy crap, he's hot. Every part of him is ripped muscle, and unfortunately, I have a weakness for guys with muscles, which is why I'm focusing on the weights and not him.

"If you're accepting my apology," he says, "then why are you so against going out with me? It doesn't have to be a date. We can just go out as friends."

"I already have a friend. Amber. She's also my roommate."

"And you're only allowed to have one friend? You can't have another?" He smiles and my eyes get caught on his smooth perfect lips and those straight white teeth. As if the muscles weren't enough. He has to have a perfect smile. And beautiful blue eyes. And of course he hasn't shaved yet today, so there's a sexy layer of stubble covering his rugged face.

"I have other friends, just not here in Chicago." I bring the weights down and relax my arms by my sides.

"Well, now you do." He's still smiling. "I'll be your second friend in Chicago."

"That's okay. I'm sure I'll make plenty of friends when I start college next week."

He rests his forearms on the machine and leans toward me. He's sweaty and yet he doesn't even smell bad. It's more of a musky, manly scent that I find oddly appealing.

"Am I that bad?" he asks. "You won't even be friends with me?"

"It's just that I really don't—"
 

"Let's start over." He holds his hand out to me. "Hi. I'm Austin Wheeler. I'm 21. I work for Wheeler Construction and Renovations, my dad's company. And when I'm not working, I play guitar in a band called Vandyl. I have three older brothers and I like working out."

"Nice to meet you, Austin." I shake his hand just so he'll put it down and back away. He's too close to me, and if I remain this close to him for much longer, I'll find myself agreeing to go out with him. It's not like that would be the worst thing in the world. In fact, I'd probably like going on a date with him. He's super hot and we both like working out, but I don't want to date a guy in a band. As I witnessed last night, he has girls all over him all the time and I don't want to compete with that. He can have any girl he wants. He'd go out with me a couple times, get bored, and move on with someone else. He's not boyfriend material, not that I want a boyfriend, but if I did, it wouldn't be some muscular hottie who has girls begging to go out with him.

"Your turn," he says, still hovering over my machine.

"Could you please move back? You're kind of sweaty."

He immediately steps back. "Sorry. I wasn't even thinking about that. Shit, that's embarrassing." A hint of pink comes over his cheeks which I find kind of sweet. He's Mr. Confident, almost cocky, one minute, then is suddenly self-conscious, concerned that I really am turned off by his sweat.

"Don't worry about it," I tell him. "It's a gym. It's normal. I'm sweaty too." I'm really not, but I say it so he doesn't feel so self-conscious.

"Yeah, but you don't stink. I do." He takes another step back. "I should go shower."

It's the strangest thing, but now, for some reason, I don't want him to leave. As soon as he said he was leaving, I got this urge to make him stay. Is it just because I like looking at him? Or is it something else?
 

"If you change your mind about dinner, just let me know. I'm here almost every day, but if you don't see me, just ask one of the guys at the front desk for my number. Everyone here knows me." He's talking fast, almost like he's nervous, which I also find to be sweet. He's got this whole other vulnerable side I didn't know about until just now. "Or I could just give you my number." When I don't answer, he nods and says, "Okay, well, it was nice seeing you again. I'll let you get back to your workout." He turns and walks off.

"Austin?" I call after him.

He turns back. "Yeah?"

I get off the machine and walk over to him, extending my hand. "Hi. I'm Kira. I'm 21 and starting college next week, probably making me the oldest freshman the school has ever had." I laugh a little, then keep going. "I'm from Michigan and have three younger brothers. And I like working out."

He smiles and shakes my hand. "Well, we have that in common at least."

"Yeah." I let go of his hand, my eyes getting stuck on his face again. Those blue eyes, and that smile. I really like his smile and the fact that he smiles a lot. He seems like a really positive person and I could use more people like that in my life. This past year, I've been surrounded by people who are constantly negative. It's nice to be around someone who isn't.

"Any reason why?" he asks.

"Why what?"

"Why you like working out? I only ask because you're in really good shape and I was thinking maybe you're an athlete. I played football and baseball in high school. That's what got me lifting weights. Now I just do it because I like how it makes me feel."

"That's one reason I like it too but also because..." I pause, not sure I should say this because it's not really true anymore. But in my mind it is, and someday soon, I'll compete again. I know I will. "I'm a gymnast."

"A gymnast." He repeats it, his mind probably imagining how I'd be in bed. Guys are obsessed with gymnasts, thinking we do all these crazy things during sex just because our bodies are flexible. It's annoying and disrespectful to female gymnasts, and yet I admit, for a moment, I was imagining what Austin could do in bed with that body of his.
 

"For how long?" he asks, bringing me back to the conversation.

"Pretty much my whole life. A couple years ago, I competed at nationals."

"No shit?" I see the shock on his face. He's truly impressed, and for the first time in over a year, I feel like my old self again, the gymnast everyone was impressed with and rooting for, instead of the girl with the busted up leg that people just feel sorry for.

"Yeah, it was pretty awesome just to be there," I say.

"Isn't that where they pick who goes to the Olympics?"

"The selection process involves more than that, but yeah, some of the girls who were there ended up on the Olympic team."

His brows rise. "Shit, I'm honored."

"By what?"

"I didn't know I was in the presence of a professional athlete. That's freaking awesome. Congratulations."

"Thanks." I can't stop smiling. It feels great to be treated like a gymnast again. Just saying the word makes me happy.

"So what are you doing in college?" he asks. "Don't you need to spend all your time training? Or are you on the college team?"

"Um, no. I'm not competing anymore." And there goes my happy mood. Now I have to explain what happened.

I'm suddenly realizing why Austin didn't tell me he was in the band. Sometimes you just want to be someone else. Last night, he just wanted to be a regular guy, and right now, I just want to be a gymnast. Not a former gymnast, but a gymnast who's training for her next event.

"Did you get hurt?" he asks cautiously, almost like he already knows. Maybe he could tell. Sometimes I limp when I walk and don't even realize it.

"Yeah. I broke my leg. It wasn't anything major, just a small fracture, but even the smallest injury can take you out of competition." I'm not telling him how bad my injury was. He doesn't need to know. And besides, my leg is healed.

He points to my leg. "Is that how you got the scars?"

There's a scar on my right leg along my shin and another one on my thigh. When I fell off the balance beam, I broke my femur, the thigh bone, and tibia, the shin bone. Both required surgery but the surgeon did such a good job that the scars really aren't that noticeable unless you're looking directly at my leg, like Austin did just now.

"The scars are from hiking," I say. "I slipped and fell on some sharp rocks and needed stitches." The lie rolled off my tongue before I could stop it. Why did I do that? Why did I lie? I just yelled at Austin for lying and now I'm doing it myself. But I didn't want to say what really happened. One, because I don't like talking about it, and two, because I don't want yet another person telling me my gymnastics career is over.