you can get.”
Ouch.
I mean, it’s true but that doesn’t mean those words coming out of that mouth don’t hurt. Especially when he's standing there shirtless as he rifles through his bag for something. God, even his back is tightly muscled, how the hell do you even get that ripped at our age? Doesn't that kind of shit take time? Maybe the shifter genes do it for him and, God, am I enjoying the fruits of it.
"You're drooling," Gabe says, smugness dripping from every syllable, and there's something about this moment that makes it safe to flirt back just a little.
I know I look nothing like the perfectly toned and perky girls in this class but I've been shown enough interest in the past to know I'm not a complete hag. When I drop my bag down next to his and pull my shirt over my head, leaving me in just my sports bra, I make a show of bending over to dig my workout tank out of my bag.
He makes a strangled noise and then stops breathing.
I have to swallow the gloating cheer that works its way up my throat and when I pull the tank over my head, I arch my back a little more than necessary, my tits looking perkier than usual.
“That’s just fucking mean. I’m here to help you and you’re the one that took sex off of the table,” Gabe chokes out, grabbing his water bottle and stalking over to one of the weight machines.
I snicker out a laugh, sounding like a depraved idiot, but too tired and smug to care about how I look to him right now. “I play to win, you should learn that lesson now before it bites you in the ass.”
He shrugs and starts setting the machine up for me. “You’ve done enough damage that I’m bulletproof now, Fallows. What’s the most you can bench now?”
Dammit.
I have to ignore his jab at me and I force my voice to be even as I reply, “Five pounds.”
He rolls his eyes at me and then shoots me a glare. “I know you’re being a brat right now but if we have to start at five, this is going to go on forever. You’ll never get out of here.”
I mean, I wasn’t actually joking, but I don’t argue with him when he adds twenty pounds on and then jerks his head at me to get started. I take my time, mostly to mess with him, but also because I have no idea if I can actually do this.
Half an hour later I decide that I’d rather just die.
I would rather lay down and die if the Resistance comes after me because there’s nothing in the world that could be worse than all of this working out. Fuck, and to think that I’d thought Vivian’s training circuit was bad. Gabe puts him to utter shame and I start to regret ever extending that stupid fucking olive branch to him.
This is how he’s punishing me for leaving them.
“I’m not doing anything else. If you attempt to put me on another machine, I’ll scream murder and run out of here. I’m going to the police, the non-Gifted will definitely help me escape this kind of abuse.”
Gabe rolls his eyes at my dramatics, and even though he’s also sweating at the workout, his voice comes out steady and with none of the panting I’m doing, “You can bitch Gryphon out for this later if you hate it, he’s the one who set the reps. He seemed to think you could handle it, but I guess I can call him and tell him you bitched out.”
Fuck.
Goddammit, he’s figured out how to play me like a fucking fiddle because that shit is a red flag being waved at me and instantly I’m back to lifting weights and hoping to die. It takes every distraction technique I’ve ever learned to get through it but I last the entire hour, my body collapsing on the mats the moment he mutters that we’re done.
“I’m not carrying you back to the dorms so you better pull yourself together, Bond.”
I curse him out but it comes out a garbled mess of groans and panting that he just laughs at. There’s no way I’m ever moving again so I just accept that I live here now, in this exact spot on the mats. I really need to change out of my gross, sweaty clothes, but my bag is at least four feet away from me and