Work For It

by Ashley Bostock

  Oh no! What if he was stuck in this condo with a vegetarian? He was going to die a slow, torturous death if that was the case. He would have to ski into town once it cleared up—at a minimum when the wind stopped whipping around—and get what he needed. By the looks of it, Lina’s idea of stocking up was completely different than his. Pulling open the freezer, he found two boxes of ice cream, a box of popsicles and a few packs of hamburger.

  Was that bacon peeking out from beneath the hamburger? Dylan pulled it open. Yes! Oh, hell yes. Holding the package of bacon up, he realized he didn’t care how long it was in the freezer. Actually, on second thought, he scanned the package for a Best By date. Current. Nothing could make him happier. Oh, except seeing that there was yet another package of bacon half-hidden.

  With happiness firing through his blood, he turned to find Lina standing in the archway. His chest tightened. Could she get any more beautiful? She’d changed out of her flannel pajamas. She had on a pair of baggy gunmetal gray sweatpants and a white long-sleeved top that read – I’ve got a good heart, but this mouth…

  He laughed out loud, knowing that he was just getting a taste of the truth of that shirt. That mouth, for sure. “Cute shirt.” He smirked.

  “This old thing? Thanks.” Her gaze traveled to his hands. “Found my bacon, I see.”

  “Yeah, I hope you don’t mind. It was about the only thing I found worthy enough to put into my body.”

  Her eyes widened, and the corners of her mouth lifted in a small grin. “Hate to burst your bubble, Cowboy, but how do you plan on cooking it?”

  He closed his eyes in a slow, defeated blink. His shoulders sagged in despair. The electricity. Son of a—

  “I know. I’ve been doing it all morning. I keep flipping light switches on. It’s easy to forget when you’re so used to having it. Here.” She reached in the cupboard and pulled down her box of Lucky Charms. “Have a bowl with me. They’re delicious. And they come with unicorns now.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

  “I haven’t put anything like that into my mouth for decades.”

  “Well, it’s always a good reminder of where you came from.” She set up two bowls and two spoons and poured the sugary mixture of—he couldn’t even remember what the marshmallows were shaped like—horseshoes and yes, unicorns now, into their bowls.

  The waterfall sound of cereal hitting their bowls filled the silence as he watched Lina. Taking her to bed for a week or two would be a great addition for the both of them as they hid out in Pine Lake, but there was no way they could have anything beyond that. He wasn’t looking for anything more than that, truthfully. But with her eating habits, hell, the fitness world that he was fundamentally a part of, would go viral with the knowledge that Dirty Gains founder Dylan Truex was dating someone who ate Lucky Charms for breakfast.

  “Do you work out?” he asked.

  She poured milk into their bowls, eyeing him skeptically. “Are you implying that I should?”

  “Not at all. How old are you? You know eventually eating this stuff everyday will catch up to you.”

  “I’m only twenty-six. And I come from good genes. Besides, is life worth living if you constantly have to worry about what you’re sticking in your mouth?” Lina didn’t seem the least bit fazed as she shoveled a large spoonful of cereal into her mouth. Her head fell back, and her eyes closed as she chewed ravenously. “So good.”

  She made it look like sex. He was suddenly jealous but of what, he couldn’t pinpoint. His stomach growled. For sex or food, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps both. He stirred his spoon around the bowl, mixing the bits in so they were all doused with the milk. Yes, he splurged on food sometimes. Usually it was ordering the four-cheese lasagna with three helpings of bread sticks though. Not the Lucky Charms or Voodoo Donuts kind of splurging.

  He brought the spoon to his mouth. One bowl was fine. So why was he hesitating? It wasn’t going to kill him or thwart his efforts of working out. Oh man, if social media could see him now. He thought of the hashtags he’d use if he posted this pic of him holding the filled spoon to his mouth, little horseshoes and unicorns piled high on the utensil. #feelinglucky #unicornsarereal #indulgencehappens.

  Bingo! Actually, posting something like this once in a while might not be a bad idea. He filed that thought away for later, thinking about the millions of people that indulged on their diets and how showing his followers that he indulged too, would be inspiring. It’d be a great marketing tactic.

  “It’s not life or death. Are you going to take a bite?” Lina said.

  Eyeballing her, he slowly shoved the spoon into his mouth. The milk splashed over his tongue and the sweet flavors vied for first place as he began to chew. The crunchy vibrations filled his ears as he munched on the cereal. He swallowed.

  “Good, right?” Lina asked with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

  Dylan assessed his body. It wasn’t shutting down or going into a sugar coma. His heart wasn’t exploding. It was sweet and refreshing. She was right. It was good. He nodded as he shoveled more into his mouth.

  “If the power doesn’t come back on soon, what are we going to do with the fridge?”

  Dylan had been thinking the same thing. “Not sure. We should keep opening it to a minimum. I assume the firewood is out the back door?” he asked because that was another real concern.

  “Thankfully just on the back patio under that tent thingy. But it doesn’t look like the storm is letting up any time soon. Does your phone have any battery left? Mine’s dead.”

  “No. Mine died too,” he said around his cereal.

  “At least the water works,” Lina said optimistically.

  “Mmm-hmm. What did you do during the day? Before I arrived.”

  Lina placed her bowl in the sink. “Some Netflix. Lots of writing. Looking for a new job. Things like that. All electricity-related things. Well, I have a few paperbacks to read.”

  “Are they the same genre that you’re writing?” he asked. Maybe they could read out loud to each other. That would kill time.

  “They are. So if you’re thinking of borrowing one, be prepared.” She took Dylan’s empty bowl and set it next to hers in the sink.

  “I don’t mind that kind of stuff. Especially if you’re reading it out loud to me.”

  A faint rose-tint graced her cheeks when she turned back toward him from the sink. “You want me to read aloud to you?”

  He inflicted a challenging tone in his voice. “Sure. Why not? Afraid you wouldn’t be able to get past the sex parts? I can read those parts if you’re too bashful.”

  Lina laughed, her blush getting deeper. “I’m not afraid of those parts. Just never read them out loud to someone before. Let alone a man.”

  “I’m not just some man. I’m Dylan Tru—” Would she recognize his name if he said it? If she never worked out, what were the chances that she followed gossip in the fitness world? How likely would she have heard infomercials or seen his products on shelves? Walked past one of his stores at an Outlet Mall? He’d like to believe that Dirty Gains had made it into every person’s home and life—or at the very least, an impression walking past an advertisement—but he was also realistic and knew that wasn’t the case with everyone. Simply put, if you didn’t care about sports or fitness or name brands, Dirty Gains probably wasn’t your thing.

  The more pressing issue was if he could stay here with her for two weeks and hide his identity? Should he lie?

  “You’re who? Dylan Tru—”

  “—Truman,” he said in haste. Alright. He was lying. Decision made. It was just so much better than her finding out the real him. They could enjoy one another’s time together. He could be himself. Act the way he acted when he was around the guys. He could know that she wasn’t using him for his celeb status. They would be like two normal people trapped in a mountain cabin during a snow storm.

  “That means nothing to me. Are you seriously suggesting we go chill on the couch and read out loud to one another though?”

  “We
could cuddle?” he suggested mischievously, knowing that would get a rise out of her.

  “What? No. No way. I’m not up here to do any of that. Especially with you.” Lina’s hand went back to her hip—a stance he was finding quite adorable.

  “I take offense. What do you mean especially with me?”

  “Your ego is too big for your britches.”

  Dylan laughed. “I think my grandma used to tell me that when I was little. I didn’t realize that phrase was still around.”

  “Oh I’m old school like that.”

  “How about after I work out, then we read?” He looked out the window. “We have nothing better to do, at least until the wind settles down. Plus, we’re in this together, so we might as well make the most of it. Right, Lina, roomie?”

  She seemed only half-convinced. “How are you going to work out? You don’t have any equipment.”

  “Using your own bodyweight is the best way to exercise. There are plenty of things I can do.”

  “Like sit-ups?”

  He scoffed. “Sit-ups are so three decades ago. We do crunches now. Not the exact same. Why don’t you take a seat and you can watch me?”

  Chapter Six

  Spending any time with him was tempting, but her original plan of spending time alone was just as tempting. She decided not to commit to the whole reading aloud thing one way or the other. She followed him into the living room.

  Her tummy trembled.

  There was no way she would ever admit to a soul—especially him—that he was slowly getting on her good side. After one day Lina was starting to see some of his qualities—beyond his conceitedness—like being a gentleman and having a sense of humor, and she could see why women gravitated toward him. Locking her room last night probably wasn’t necessary but it had made her feel better.

  She was giddy with nerves at the idea of watching this man work out, being careful not to let him see the excitement in her eyes. She couldn’t wait to watch him. Focusing all that energy as his body exerted itself with every move he did, shot tingles up and down her spine.

  Oh yeah.

  She wanted to see the sweat drip off his face, down the back of his neck and into the waistband of his shorts. She liked how his shirt was baggy and wide open at the sides so she could see his skin. She had front row, and she hadn’t been more turned on in her life. Being turned on by Dylan was all fine and dandy as long as he didn’t know.

  She was still determined to drive him crazy though. Why? Because that would be a surefire way to keep him at bay.

  Her current worry was him softening her to putty in his hands. How was she going to ward off his advances? That charm and those green eyes of his were calling to her on a level she hadn’t experienced in such a long time. She squeezed her legs together.

  Dylan started jogging in place, and Lina grinned in embarrassment. She never got that whole jogging in place thing. She always laughed at people when she watched them doing that on street corners as they waited for the light to change. Admittedly, Dylan made it look pretty good. His eyes were focused on the far wall, which made it easier for her to watch him. Because how awkward would that be to have solid eye contact with him?

  Dylan dropped to the floor and began doing push-ups. He lowered himself about an inch away from the ground before he pushed himself up and brought his hands together, catching himself and then repeating the move all over. Down, up, clap, down, up, clap. Lina lost count somewhere between thirty-seven and thirty-eight and just stared in shock. She couldn’t even do one push-up let alone one with a fancy clap. Not to mention forty of them.

  Dylan’s arms stayed in a permanent flexed position as he propelled himself up and down. Every muscle in his back flexed as he did his routine over and over. Sweat started to bead against his forehead and along the planes of his back. Finally, he stopped and got to his knees.

  “Whew.”

  My thoughts exactly. “Yeah, maybe you should move so you aren’t directly in front of the fireplace,” Lina suggested.

  “It’s fine. Helps with my blood flow.” Dylan stood and started jumping, alternating by bringing each knee up as high as he could with each spring up. Knee jumps. She remembered that from P.E. class. She didn’t hate those as much as mountain climbers. Those were a bitch.

  Dylan did so many rounds of those she thought he would collapse before he turned to the dreaded mountain climbers. He made everything look so easy. His feet glided effortlessly along the carpet. Sweat still beaded at the base of his neck and along his back. The waist band of his shorts slipped some, showing the gray band of his underwear. He was so inspiring. This might be the first time in her life that she wished she had the drive to work out. He made it look so…healthy and good for your body. Which was why his body looked as tempting as a perfectly frosted cake from the bakery. Perfection. And that tattoo? She really wanted to touch it again. With my tongue.

  Lina hated how attractive she thought he was. Hated how watching him work his ass off aroused her. He switched it up and started doing squats. But not the normal kind where he bent his knees and came up and bent his knees again into another squat. Not Dylan, no. He bent his knees into a squat, lowered himself disgustingly close to the ground and then propelled himself up in a quick and controlled motion, his feet coming about a foot off the carpet.

  Dylan did them long enough that Lina was sure she was going to get sick from sympathetic exerciser syndrome—that was something, wasn’t it?—she couldn’t handle the grueling pace and difficultly of all the things he was doing.

  The worst part was when he gave her that cocky side-eye glance and started from the beginning again. More fancy push-ups with the clap—had to be a hundred of them now—more knee-jumps and mountain climbers and his squat jump things and whatever the hell else the last three things he did were called.

  She was exhausted.

  How was the altitude not kicking his ass?

  When he’d completed his third round of activities, he smirked at her heated body. “Wanna join in next time?” he asked her, out of breath.

  Lina laughed. “Ah, no thanks! You’d kill me.”

  “I’d take it slow with you. At first. Then we’d go at a much faster pace.” Dylan gulped down his water as his eyes glimmered with amusement.

  “Oh, I just bet you would.” Her breath quickened. Her legs felt like strands of over-cooked spaghetti.

  “You. Me. Tomorrow.” He winked. “I’m going to jump in the shower. Feel like shining a flashlight on me so I could see what I’m washing?”

  Lina rolled her eyes. “You should have plenty of light.” Did he think she could be duped into that?

  Dylan smiled. “I trust you that you won’t look. And even if you did, I wouldn’t mind. I’m confident that you’d like what you see.”

  Ohhh, ho, ho. He was exasperating. She was also confident that she would like what she’d see. Assuming she could see anything. Because, um, hell yeah, she would look. She wasn’t stupid.

  “I don’t think it’s that dark up there.” Lina said, willing her nerves to settle the fuck down.

  He ran a hand through his thick-looking hair. “Come on. I’ll show you I’m right. I already inspected it. I’ll have to do it for you too. I’m sure you need a shower today.”

  This was true. She did need a shower today. Dang him. If it was really as dark as he thought, she’d need help with light. And there was no way she could go any longer without a shower, especially if she was going to be cooped up in this small condo with God’s gift to women. On second thought, if she didn’t shower then she wouldn’t be tempted to succumb to his obvious advances. Not only would she be dirty and sweaty, but she’d be unshaven. A complete no-no where a guy like Dylan was concerned.

  Reluctantly she followed him up to the bathroom where she quickly grabbed the flashlight and handed it to Dylan.

  “See,” he said, all confidence inside the bathroom.

  He flickered the light off and on, proving to her that without it, it was definit
ely too dark to shower with the way the shower itself was situated in the bathroom behind all that tile. At least not safely anyway. That was all she needed would be for him to slip and break his neck. She’d hate to have to live with a dead body for any amount of time.

  He clicked the flashlight off, blinding her sight, but she didn’t need that. She could feel him. She could feel the hairs of his arms brushing against hers. He smelled like a man—nothing like the strong cologne when he first arrived—just hints of spice folded in layers of his post-workout sweat. The rise and fall of his chest enveloped her as if she’d dipped her finger in warm honey. God, he was everywhere all at once. Cushioned against the wall and himself, there was nowhere for her to go.

  This was the moment. If he was hiding any kind of crazy it would come out now while he had her trapped inside the dark bathroom. But her heart knew he wasn’t going to do anything unkind. He wasn’t going to harm her in any way.

  A small part of her didn’t want to move away from him. In Arizona, no one ever showed their attraction to her. She knew it was because she was always so brisk and somewhat sarcastic. It usually scared men away.

  She shook her head. She wasn’t accustomed to thinking these things about a man she’d just recently met. Let alone someone with his confidence level. His head was too high in the clouds, and she didn’t think anyone could bring him down.

  She would enjoy his flirty banter and stay un-showered for at least another day. By then, he’d have to be turned off by her nappy-assed hair and smelly skin. Uhhh, could she really do that to herself?

  “Lina,” Dylan’s husky voice penetrated the dark silence. A low, drawn out chuckle came out of his mouth and being in the dark made her senses too attuned to how damn sexy he sounded. Lord, help her.

  “Dylan,” she said a little too breathlessly.

  “Will you help me then?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Will you take the flashlight?” His voice was still low and sexy like he’d been thinking about her the way she’d been thinking about him. He hadn’t moved an inch, cocooning her against the warmth of his body.