Sex Snob (11 page)

I grabbed Shane’s arm and tried to pull him backward.
He was here to compete, not get in a brawl because of me. “Shane, stop. I’m okay. It’s fine. Come on, you’re going to miss your heat.” My voice was pleading. I didn’t want to be the cause of Shane getting disqualified.

He stood there glaring at the other man for a few more seconds before he let me pull him away.
The man wisely didn’t say anything else as Shane backed up.

“Are you okay?” Shane asked when we had walked a few feet.
He stopped, turned to face me, and put his arms back on my biceps, his thumbs circling my skin softly.

My heart thumped at the contact as a sizzle ran down my body.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied huskily. Our eyes locked and he held my gaze for what felt like an eternity, though it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. “Thanks,” I breathed.

“No problem,” he replied, giving my arms a slight squeeze before releasing me and resuming his walk.
Then, suddenly, I felt his hand reach for mine and grasp it firmly. “Stay close to me,” he ordered. “These people are maniacs.”

And as we walked briskly toward his next event, I tried to ignore how right it felt to be holding his hand.

***

Kyle and Kate finally caught up to me as I stood watching Shane warm up for his next event.
They seemed engrossed in their conversation, which was fine with me, since I was engrossed with watching how Shane’s muscles tweaked and rippled as he practiced the different movements and stretched.

And that was how the rest of the day went.
Shane kept qualifying for the next round, so we followed him to each station. And though he didn’t grab my hand again, he walked close to me, his biceps rubbing against my shoulders frequently. As Shane competed, Kate and Kyle talked about God-knows-what while I gawked at Shane. It was a perfect afternoon actually.

At the third station, my phone vibrated in my pocket.
I fished it out and looked down to see a text from Lily.

Hey, I’m taking off. Have
fun ; )

I shook my head and clicked out of my messages and looked at the time.
Wow, 4:24?
We’d been here almost three and a half hours.
Time flies when you’re ogling.

When all was said and done, Shane came in fifth overall out of over 200 competitors.
I have to admit, I was damn proud of him. As his name was announced, I heard a large roar from the crowd and turned to see a small sea of purple shirts. Shane waved to them, but his eyes found mine. I smiled broadly at him as a shy smile crept to his lips.

After
the awards, Shane hopped down from the small stage that had been erected in a corner of the gym. I was standing with the rest of CrossFit Force by this time and the excitement among us was palpable.

Shane jogged over to us and yelled, “Okay, now we celebrate.”

Everyone cheered and started talking at once, trying to decide where to go for dinner and drinks.
I turned to search for Kyle and spotted him fairly easily, since he was the only one in this group not wearing purple. As I approached him, I noticed he was still speaking to Kate. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but I wasn’t sure what you wanted to do.” I willed Kyle to want to go out with the group. I was suddenly desperate to spend more time with Shane, but Kyle drove, so it was his decision.
Christ, I’m pathetic.

“Oh, don’t leave.
The party’s just getting started,” Kate begged, her eyes looking up expectantly at Kyle.

“I’m up for hanging out a little while longer if you want, Amanda.”

Kate’s eyes darted to me and I could see the pleading in them. “Yeah, sounds great,” I replied.

“Great,” Kate squealed.
She clearly hadn’t intended for her voice to come out that high pitched because her face grew a tad crimson. “I’ll just go find out where we’re going.”

And as she bounded off, I shot Kyle a look that let him know that I expected to hear all about what was going on between the two of them.
I just hoped he didn’t give me a similar look back.

***

Forty-five minutes later, I found myself sitting in a pub called Doc McGroggins. After a ton of bickering amongst our group, we had finally decided on this place, reasoning that it was close enough to the arena that we could walk, yet far enough that it wouldn’t be packed with people from the competition.

W
ith our group numbering about twenty-five, we basically took over the small place. It was a good choice though. The bartenders were friendly, the hardwood floors and oak tables were clean, and the four flat screens that were scattered throughout were broadcasting various shows, not just sports. I was too distracted to pay much attention to what was on them, though. I was sitting at a long table with about ten people, but I found myself nestled between Kyle and Shane. I’m not even sure how I ended up next to Shane. It kind of just happened as we filed in. I mean, Kyle had made some comment about me body-checking a girl from my gym who had attempted to take the seat next to Shane, but I have no recollection of that.

We ordered drinks from the cocktail waitress who cam
e to our table, but we realized that we were all starving, so she quickly returned to take our food order. I suddenly found myself in a crisis.
What the hell should I order?
I had no reservations when it came to food. As long as it was dead and had a high caloric value, I’d eat it. But I was sitting there with two of my trainers from the gym, and I was pretty sure they both adhered to the Paleo Diet; most serious CrossFitters did. I didn’t want them to see how bad my eating habits were. I’d never hear the end of it.

When the server got to me, I ordered the healthiest thing I thought I’d be able to choke down.
“I’ll have a grilled chicken sandwich, please.” I glanced over at Kyle who raised his eyebrows at me. I shrugged nonchalantly at him and hoped he didn’t call me out on my order.
Damn him for knowing me so well.

The server then moved on to Shane, who turned slightly toward me as he glanced up at the server.
“I’ll take the wings.”

“Twelve or twenty-four
?” she asked sweetly as she rested her hand on the back of the chair and leaned slightly down toward him, pushing her breasts closer to his face.

“Better make it twenty-four.”

“No problem,” she said with a wink.

First of all, did she just wink? Who did that anymore? Second of all, it was obviously “no problem.” They were on the fucking menu for a reason.

Shane turned back around, ignoring her eye flirting and started up a conversation with Joe, who was sitting across from him.
As they rambled on about CrossFit bullshit, I tried to get Kyle’s attention, but he was too absorbed in his conversation with Kate.
What the hell did I bring him for if he isn’t going to entertain me?

With no alternative, I started talking to Emily who was seated across from me.
She was nice enough, but also annoying. She was a bigger girl, maybe packing 200 lbs. on her 5’5 frame. She had divulged her entire life story to me one day at the gym during our warm-up. She had gained a ton of weight when her boyfriend of three years dumped her. Blah, blah, blah, who cares? I had avoided her like the plague ever since. But, now I was saddled with the decision to either sit here quietly, which would be a real struggle for me, or expose myself to infection.

“So, Emily, how have you been?”

She looked up at me with sad eyes, and I knew I was totally fucked. “Well, I’ve been okay, I guess.”

I immediately realized my mistake: sitting quietly would have been the more desirable option, so
I begged my mouth to stay closed.
Disengage, disengage!
But as we sat there awkwardly, her obviously waiting for me to ask her to elaborate and me clicking my heels together in the hope that I’d be transported out of there, I was left with little choice. “Oh, really? Just okay?”

Emily then launched into a monologue about how she had had to move back home
with her parents and how, at thirty-two, she had hoped that she’d be married with kids by now. She just knew that once she “lost the weight” everything would get better.

Hmm, probably not,
I thought as she went on about how her depression started when her cat died.

“Oh, no, when did he die?”

“When I was five.”

I couldn’t contain the laugh that flew out of my mouth.
I tried. Hard. And in my defense, I did a decent job of covering it up by acting like I was choking. “Sorry,” I gasped. “Wrong pipe.” I silently hoped she didn’t notice that I hadn’t been drinking or eating anything that could have gone down the wrong pipe.

I suddenly felt a large hand smacking me on the back.

“You okay there, Bishop?”

“Fine,” I croaked.
When I looked at Shane, I saw humor alight in his eyes. I wondered if he had heard my conversation with Emily.

I didn’t have time to analyze it further, because Emily launched off into other childhood traumas, including her inability to save a baby bird
who had fallen out of its nest, the time she had peed her pants in front of her entire third grade class, and when she had once earned a B- on her report card. “The teacher just didn’t like me,” she whined.

I can’t imagine why
.
“What a bastard.” I had to at least feign support. If she stopped talking to me, I’d have to sit there like a loser fiddling on my phone in order to pretend I was just too busy to talk to anyone. I stared daggers over at Kyle, my former best friend. He had better hope Kate put out, because it’d be a cold day in hell before I fucked him again.
Traitor.

As Emily started in on her night terrors, I felt Shane’s knee bump into mine.
I shifted over slightly to give him more room. I picked up my drink and took a long, long sip before setting it back down, propping my elbows on the table and sinking my head into my hands. Emily had just started gesturing wildly with her hands when I felt it again.
Christ, his legs weren’t that long.
I peeked over at him and saw him trying to suppress a smirk.
The bastard was listening.
Was his bumping me his way of showing moral support or him poking fun at the horrendous circumstance I had found myself in? My guess was the latter. Well, two could play at that game.

“Shane, didn’t you tell me you have really bad nightmares?”

The smirk instantly fell from his lips as Emily whipped her attention to him. “You do?” Emily asked him, clearly ecstatic to meet a fellow sufferer.

“Uh, no, I . . . uh
. . . ,” I couldn’t contain my grin as I watched him frantically search for words, “I mean, I’ve had nightmares, like everyone else. But, uh, nothing, nothing serious.”

“What do you have nightmares about?” Emily questioned as she leaned slightly toward him, invading Joe’s personal space, causing him to recline back in his chair.

Haha, this should be interesting.
“Yeah, Shane, what are your nightmares about?” I asked, faking sincerity.

Shane glowered at me as he responded, “I usually don’t remember.”

Just then, the servers came out to deliver our food. And as they placed a bacon cheeseburger in front of Emily, I couldn’t help but think about how it would probably be a long time before things started getting better for her if she kept eating like that.

Shane took advantage of the distraction to lean closer to me.
“You are a cruel, heartless woman for doing that to me.”

I giggled a little at the seriousness in his voice.
“I had suffered long enough. It was time to throw someone else on the grenade.” I watched the server brush against Shane as she lowered his buffalo wings in front of him.

“Thank you,” he said
without looking up at her.

Now that I had Shane’s attention, I wanted to keep it.
“I thought all you CrossFit nutjobs ate according to that Caveman Diet?”

“A lot of us do.”

“But you aren’t right now.”

“Sure I am.
This is chicken.”

“Yeah, chicken covered in sauce,” I laughed.
“Cavemen didn’t have buffalo sauce, did they? And they definitely didn’t have the ranch dressing you’re dunking them in.”

“I’m celebrating, so leave me alone,” he replied as he continued to eat.
“And what do you mean by ‘CrossFit nutjobs’? You do CrossFit. Wouldn’t that make you a nutjob, too?”

“I just do it for the exercise.
I haven't drunk the Kool-Aid like you other muscleheads.” I bit into my sandwich, wishing I had ordered Emily’s dinner instead. “Though I am still a nutjob. Just not a CrossFit nutjob.”

“Oh, okay.
I’m so glad you made that distinction. So why are you a nutjob?”

He was looking at me now, his eyes intent.
He was actually interested in this answer, and that made me a little tense. What had been fun banter was turning more serious, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I copped out. “I’m not. I was just trying to make you feel better.”