Page 13 of Hard Count (Newhouse University #4)

DREW

I reach down and tap on my phone until a new song plays. One that will motivate me enough to fight through this last set of leg curls. I’m running out of time before the gym will fill up with athletes.

One perk of being the coach’s daughter—maybe the only one—is getting a pass to the student athlete gym which is full of state of the art equipment. There's no wait for machines and you don’t have to worry about unwanted attention.

Everyone comes here with one purpose. It isn’t to get a date or socialize. When athletes walk through the door they are clocking in. They're here to put in the work to be at their peak performance. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Grunting, I dig my heels into the foot roller and engage the muscles in the back of my thighs. I repeat the movement a few more times. Each rep is becoming more difficult than the last. I'm about to drop the weight when a pair of white sneakers come into view.

At this angle I’m up close and personal with Nash’s thigh tattoo.

I pump my legs a few more time knowing he’s watching.

I hope he’s enjoying the view as much as I am.

I’ve always wondered what his tattoos were but could never get close enough to see.

I never expected them to be a full sleeve of anime characters.

It’s sexy the way they cover his muscular thighs and calves.

I lower the weights and maneuver myself into a seated position. Removing my headphones, I smirk at him. “You’re standing kind of close if you’re waiting to use the machine.”

“What are you doing here?” His tone is cold and distant.

This is a far cry from the guy pleading outside my apartment door over a week ago begging for my help. Definitely not the man who was feeding me compliments. Was he just manipulating me to get what he wanted?

Suddenly filled with the fire of a thousand suns, I stand and grab a spray bottle of cleaner and a few paper towels on a nearby table.

I don’t have to answer him. Spraying down the bench, I ignore his fuming and mumbled curses.

Once I’ve wiped down the bench and every surface I’ve touched, I toss the paper towels in the trash and return the cleaner.

I nudge him out of the way so I can grab my phone, water, and the rest of my things. “Are you ignoring me? I asked you a question,” he says.

I look over my shoulder while I snatch up my towel.

His eyes bounce around the gym. Anywhere but on me bent over in my spandex leggings and cropped tank top.

It makes me giddy and maybe a little smug.

“Looks like you’re the one who’s trying to ignore me.

How's that going for you? Why don’t you ignore me some more while I finish my workout?

” I ask, walking past him toward the weight room.

The free weights, bench presses, and squat racks are hidden behind half walls in the back of the gym. There are a few football players mulling around but the room is relatively empty. I nod a brief hello to Eli who’s spotting someone doing chest presses.

I drop my things in an empty spot in front of the mirrored wall. Then select two fifteen pound weights from the rack. If I had any sense, I would skip the last part of my workout and hit the showers.

However, if I did that, I would miss Nash kicking some of the guys out of the weight room while I run through my various squat exercises. Keeping my head forward, I stay focused on my form while he has a hissy fit.

“This is the athletes’ gym,” Nash says. He’s still angry that I’m here I see.

Tilting my head up to glance in the mirror, I smirk when I see him standing directly behind me.

We look hot together. All it would take is me leaning back an inch or two and my ass would be in the perfect position to rub against his dick.

When his eyes meet mine in the reflective glass, he curses and moves to the side.

I have to bite down on my bottom lip to hold in my laugh.

I straighten from my bent position and turn toward him. “Is that what your problem is?” I return the weights back to the rack. “I’m not an athlete?” I lift my towel off the ground and wipe at the sweat forming on my forehead and chest.

“Yes,” he grunts out his response. I could be insulted by his answer or relish in the fact he’s lying through his teeth.

“Hate to break your heart but I am an athlete.”

Moving closer he says, “But not at Newhouse.”

“I’ve been working out in this gym every day since I transferred.

The one and only privilege I’m taking advantage of for being my dad’s favorite daughter.

” I try to deliver that last bit with as little spite as possible but I’m afraid enough slipped through to make Nash ease off his campaign to get me to leave.

“I’ve never seen you in here before.”

I laugh which causes his jaw muscle to tick. “That must mean I’m lying then.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I usually come in earlier but I was running late this morning.”

“Are you almost done?” His eyes dart around the room at the handful of guys apparently allowed to be in the same vicinity as me.

“I’m not going to let you push me out of here because I make you uncomfortable. The pass in my locker says I have the same right to be here as any of you do.” I gesture toward his friends.

“You’re right. You should come workout with us.” He nods and starts walking toward the squat rack they’re currently using.

“I wouldn’t want to embarrass anyone,” I joke, following him. Nash tosses a boyish grin over his shoulder that makes my heart skip a beat.

“Do you think you can?” he challenges.

“I think you have no idea what I’m capable of.”

He spins around and suddenly we’re standing toe to toe. “I know exactly what you can do. You’re the one who’s letting someone hold you back.”

Moving closer until we’re chest to chest. “I could say the same to you. There are people who have recognized your raw talent from the first time you stepped onto a football field. Yet you're choosing to not play at your full potential. Get out of your head, and play how you were made to.” His eyes hold mine for a moment too long. Even though the words are true, I shouldn’t have said them out loud.

Shaking my head, I retreat and turn to retrieve my belongings.

I think maybe I’m done working out after all.

“You can’t say something like that and leave. This is why we need you.” He wraps his hand around my bicep to halt my flurry of movement. “This is why I need you. Don’t walk away. Help us. Help me.”

“I already told you I wasn’t interested. You won your game. You should be thrilled. You proved you didn’t need me after all.”

He sighs and removes his hand from my arm. “You call that winning?” he asks with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

The win wasn’t pretty. They made a last second field goal to tip the score in their favor. “You’re still undefeated.” I shrug.

“Out squat one of the guys and I won’t ask for your help again. I won’t bother you.” He throws out the challenge with a promise. One that I don’t like very much. We seem to be balancing precariously on the edge of a love hate relationship.

He can say something one moment that makes me want to rage and in the next breath he says something that, if dissected correctly, is so sweet you wonder how it came from the same person you wanted knee in the balls mere moments ago.

Nash telling me he won’t bother me again almost makes me want to lose on purpose. Unfortunately, my pride and ego aren’t going to let me give this one away so easily.

“Fine.” My eyes drift over to the squat rack. I can lift at least a hundred pounds. I think . “You can go first.”

“Oh, you won’t be going against me.” He smiles.

“Why not?”

“Now why would I do that when I can spend my time trying to ignore you some more?” He winks then places a hand on my back to finish our route toward his friends.

My cheeks flush at what he’s insinuating.

High school Drew would be doing back flips right now knowing Nash Pierce was having a hard time keeping his eyes off of her.

Shit, even college Drew would probably give them a try if it didn’t mean losing the way his hand feels on my back.

“You’ve already met Eli.” He nods toward his roommate.

I wave hello and try not to think about my run-ins with him.

Especially the fact that he’s likely seen my boobs.

“This is Gage.” He points to a guy with shaggy black hair, tattoos, and a nose ring standing by a second squat rack.

He has a smirk plastered on his face that would make any girl want to do bad things.

“And this is Ozzy.” He waves a hand toward a guy with close cropped blond hair and gray eyes. “They live at the house with us and are on the soccer team.”

“Nice to meet you both,” I say. “I’m Drew.”

“Hi, Drew.” Another blond steps up beside me. “I’m Asher.” He holds out his hand and I shake it tentatively.

“Hi, Asher.”

He opens his mouth to say something else but Eli clears his throat. “She’s Coach’s daughter.”

“Oh,” he says, taking a step back. “I’m…just…I’m going to go over there.” He tosses his thumb over his shoulder. There’s nothing in that direction but a blank wall and a water fountain. Good to know being the coach’s kid still sends the boys running in the opposite direction.

“Not so fast, Asher,” Nash says, making him stop in his tracks. “Drew and I have a bet over who can squat more weight.”

“Oooh, I like it. What are the stakes?” Gage asks.

“If she can squat more weight than one of us, she gets out of helping the team with her weekly analysis. If she loses, she’s stuck with me for the rest of the season,” he explains to the group .

“Can you do the same thing for the soccer team? Nash showed us the report you put together. We could use you this spring,” Ozzy says.