Whisper in the Rain

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

GRACE

I hated weight lifting.

Hated. It.

There's nothing more embarrassing or pointless than standing next to the door like you're ready to flee at any second while holding two bright purple dumbbells in your hands. Two tiny, pastel, five-pound dumbbells.

After uselessly moving my arms from my sides to my shoulders for a few minutes, Miles and one of his friends walked through the door. I listened closely, pretending not to care, as the guy whose name I wasn't privy to asked if Miles needed a spotter. Of course, Miles, being the egotistical jerk that he was, shot me a smile over his shoulder and politely declined.

It's not happening, dude.

The guy shrugged and walked away as Miles started to load the bar. After all the plates were in place, he took a seat and I silently calculated how much weight he was dealing with.

Two hundred and fifteen pounds.

Show off.

After pumping the bar a few times, Miles angled his head to where he could see me.

Too bad I was too busy staring at his biceps to notice.

"Hey now," Miles said around a grunt. "My eyes are up here."

Of course, my cheeks heated so fast I was sure I looked like a chameleon sitting on a tomato.

"Sorry," I murmured, looking away.

"This is heavier than I remember."

I ignored him and continued lifting my puny five-pounders as he bench pressed what was probably the equivalent of his own body weight.

"Seriously," he huffed. "Shit."

I risked a peek through my hair and found he was already sweating. The veins in his arms stood out against tanned skin as he strained to return the bar to the rack.

And then the bar slipped.

Without thinking, I jerked up to help him, dropping my weights to the floor as I lunged forward.

Just as quickly as I reacted, I stopped short.

He was laughing.

"Are you serious?"

"Sorry," he chuckled as he proceeded to lift the bar with ease. "Couldn't help myself."

I turned around to retrieve my pathetic weights and leaned back against the wall, concealing myself in the shadows.

"You're an ass."

"That I am," he agreed.

We lifted together in silence as the rest of the class moved from one weight station to the next without us. With all the high-tech equipment in the room, no one bothered with free weights.

"Seriously, though," he said, stopping to rest. "I'd feel better if you were standing here just in case I do slip up and decide to crush my sternum."

"Get your friend to spot you."

I refused to look at him. If he even showed the slightest hint that he genuinely wanted my help, I knew I'd drop what I was doing and go to him. Not because I thought he needed my help - obviously he didn't - but because I enjoyed being around him. I enjoyed feeling like someone, a real, live human being, wanted to be near me, to spend time with me.

"Looks like he's a little busy right now."

I looked up to find his buddy teaching a short, blonde sophomore how to properly position herself for a dead lift.