Page 10

Chapter 10

APRIL

M y hand was wrapped around a wrench, and my body was in front of the bike I was supposed to be working on, but my eyes were on Billie’s phone as she showed me the eleventh Bookstagram video in a row. She’d sent all these videos to me, but she wanted to see my reactions live.

It was funny. Billie read, but she wasn’t into romances like I was. However, she’d started sending me funny smut videos, and now that’s all the algorithm gave her. I’d had to hold my side the last three videos. I thought I’d burst at the seams laughing about shadow daddies and dark romance references.

Then, the lighting in the room dimmed as a tall figure partially blocked the natural lighting. Gabriel Torres ducked his head ever so slightly as he entered like he was used to hitting it on door frames. Our fluorescent lighting washed out most skin tones. Not Gabe’s. His bronze skin looked radiant. At some point, I had to stop drinking him in every time he entered a room .

I straightened from the reel Billie had been showing me, and my abs and ass simultaneously protested at the movement. It had only been two days since my magic mile/plank/swim test nightmare with Gabe, and my entire body felt like a piece of gum that had been chewed well past recognition and flavor.

Gabe nodded towards us. “Billie. Baird.”

“Coach,” I answered.

And he smiled, so I smiled, which, in turn, made Billie’s head snap my way so she could openly search my face.

“Hey, Gabe!” Trevor called, entering from the back, his arms full of boxes. “Can you give me one second? I’m working on inventory.”

“No rush,” Gabe answered, eyeing the nutrition display.

“What?” I asked Billie because she was smiling as she walked backward to the checkout counter, her thumbs moving like crazy over her phone. My phone vibrated.

I sighed, pulling up the message I knew would be from her.

Billie: You’ve got a thing for your coach.

My cheeks flamed, and I put my phone face down, signaling I wouldn’t entertain the conversation.

Gabe turned to me, holding up an empty box. “You wouldn’t happen to have any more of these in the back, would you?”

“No, sorry. Those are the only chews we have.”

“Might as well not even show up to the race this weekend. Salted watermelon is my good luck flavor.” The pout on his face was playful, but I could tell he was a little disappointed.

“Which race are you doing? The one in Sugarland?”

Gabe nodded.

“Mandarin is pretty good,” I suggested.

“I like the blackberry flavor, myself,” Billie said .

That got Gabe’s attention. “I didn’t know you raced.”

“Oh, I don’t. I just like snacking on the chews.”

Gabe made a face at that but met Billie at the counter with several chew packets. “Would you like to check your coach out?” she asked me with a faux innocent expression.

“No.” I turned to our mini fridge to give myself a reason to hide my face. I let the cool air kiss my cheeks, which felt as hot as a summer sidewalk. I pretended to contemplate the contents when my only option—a container with spaghetti—sat directly in front of me.

Once my cheeks felt cool enough, I dove into my lunch. Gabe looked over, nose scrunching. “Are you eating . . . cold spaghetti?”

My mouth was full, so Billie answered for me. “She eats all her meals like that.”

I slurped up a noodle. “I do not.”

“Yes, you do,” Trevor called from the back.

“Do you guys not have a microwave?” Gabe asked.

“We do,” Billie answered. “It’s in the office.”

“I’m too busy for that,” I said defensively.

Gabe made a show of looking around. He was the only customer.

“Okay, it’s empty now, but it could change like—” I snapped my fingers, “—that.”

The door dinged with a customer.

“You’d think you’d be better at not jinxing things this far into working retail,” Billie said, an annoyed expression on her face.

The customer, whose name escaped both Billie and me, had been secretly nicknamed The Viking because he looked like a bearded Norse god in running shorts.

“Gabe!” The Viking called. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

Gabe leaned back against the counter. “Hey, Steve! How’s it going?”

Steve? Yeah, The Viking fit him better.

“You’ve healed me. I haven’t had a problem with my shoulder since I was on your massage table.” Viking Steve waggled a finger between Billie and me. “Have either of you had a session with Gabe?”

“No,” Billie said. “But I’ve heard enough stories.”

“Here we go,” Gabe said, shaking his head and looking at the ground.

“He had me sweating and crying two minutes in. Longest half hour of my life.” I eyed Gabe. The idea of him making someone as muscular as Viking Steve suffer . . . Remind me to take care of myself, so I never end up on Gabe’s table.

“Not my idea of a massage,” Billie mumbled.

“It was worth it, though. It’s like he tore up the muscle so it could form back properly. Honestly, I’m a new man.”

“I’ll stick with my old muscles, thanks,” Billie said.

Viking Steve laughed, then turned to me. “I’m actually here because my headlight gave out. Do you have anything in stock?”

“Yeah!” I came around the corner, the spaghetti container still in my hand. “Were you wanting something for your handlebars or your helmet?”

A clamber of nails on tile made us swivel around. The pit bull, or Beast, was on a leash, pulling Trevor behind him.

Beast cowered as he approached Gabe, but when Gabe knelt and spoke softly to him, his tail wagged so fast that his entire body shook. Trevor told me he was bringing the pit bull to the shop because he’d found someone to give him a temporary home, but I hadn’t known that someone was Gabe.

“Wait,” I said. “You’re the one taking Beast in?”

“Yeah,” Gabe answered, still smiling at the dog. “He’s going to crash at my place until someone can find a better home for him.”

Gabe laughed as Beast made a valiant effort to lick his face, which, in turn, only made Beast try even harder. I couldn’t help but think Beast didn’t need a better home if he was with Gabe. He’d taken me under his wing, and my plans were starkly different, more in-depth, almost holistic. I couldn’t imagine he half-assed anything: triathlon training, coaching, dog ownership. Whatever he decided to do, he was in it. One hundred percent.

I didn’t know what had gotten into Gabe that he was suddenly taking in strays, or maybe he was just always like this, but I had the distinct feeling that both Beast and I were in good hands.