He didn't seem to be on board with that, but he'd come around. Men always did.
After I finished up with a new client, instructing him through a back kick and getting him set to practice on the bag, I moved to where Enzo lurked near the front desk. The few female clients who moved through the space eyed him each time they passed, chugging water so they would have to go bend over the fountain in front of him. He was oblivious, absorbed in the work on his tablet. His eyes darted up every few seconds to check on me, and it was a heady sensation to feel that pull. To know that he didn't have the time or inclination to glance at women who bent over in tight workout pants to catch his eye, but that he had time to look at me constantly. His hazel eyes warmed, sparking with that familiar heat as I made my way to him. The muscles of my stomach clenched, as if his gaze was a physical caress, and I could feel the fingers of it trailing over my skin in a delicate tease.
The knowing smile that curved the edges of his lips was intoxicating, drawing anyone into his orbit. I stepped around him, staying just out of his reach. His teeth sank into his bottom lip as I rounded the front desk, stepping behind it to check on Rebel where she lay sprawled out on her new doggy bed. The massive, plush thing was like the Lambo of dog beds, just like the one at home, and if it wouldn't be unbelievably ridiculous, I'd probably have been tempted to curl up on it with her.
She'd slept with me the night before, curling up at the foot of my bed in Enzo's home. I'd wondered briefly if I could sleep in a bed with a dog and the potential hair she'd leave behind, but I found that my issues with such matters weren't concerns with her. If anything, it was like she calmed the more relentless parts of my nature that never seemed to leave me alone. Making life more tolerable just by being there with me.
I refrained from disturbing her even though I wanted to pet her, chuckling at the way her chest rose and fell in perfect timing with her soft snores.
One of the weights to our right crashed to the floor with a massive bang, the sound echoing through the room. A glance at Enzo showed his body suddenly going solid, all traces of emotion wiped from his face. Turning away from him, I yelled to whoever had dropped the weight so carelessly. "Easy! I—" Enzo lunged over the counter, his body moving with a ferocity I'd never seen. It collided with mine, tackling me to the floor so suddenly that he forced the breath from my lungs in a sudden heave and stole the words from my throat. His body covered mine, every inch of me suffocated by the shield he created with his own weight. "Enzo," I whispered in surprise as my voice came back slowly, my throat tight as I formed the words.
He didn't respond, didn't even flinch, even though there was no way he couldn't hear me. His ear was right next to my forehead, his chin by my nose. My fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, gripping lightly until I maneuvered it up and touched my fingertips to his bare skin beneath it. His muscles tightened, as if his body sensed my touch, but he never moved. He never acknowledged the touch with his words. Nothing but a solid block between me and the rest of the world. The hand next to my head held his Glock. His gun drawn, eyes alert, I realized with a start that whatever happened had made him tackle me, protect me with his body as his priority.
But voices approached us from the rest of the gym, laced with concern that I could barely hear over the muffling effect of Enzo's body. "Enzo," I repeated. "It's okay." Rebel's nose brushed against my hand as she nudged his side, nuzzling into him. Her tail flicked back and forth like a whip, cracking against my hip now and then as she curled her body into ours. "Lorenzo," I murmured softly. I pulled my hand out from the place he'd trapped it between our bodies, cupping his coarsely stubbled cheek in my palm gently. "Where'd you go, Big Guy?" I asked. Some of the tension drifted from his frame, his body relaxing over mine as he let out a slow breath. He still didn't speak, didn't move to get off me, but his face came into my line of view.
His hazel eyes were blank, and I knew whatever memory played out in his head, he didn't see me as I was. "Sadie," he whispered, his voice hoarse. As if he tried to pull free of the grasp of the memory he was trapped in, of the trauma that pulled him back to a place I didn't want to contemplate.
"I'm right here, Lorenzo," I sighed, touching my lips to his softly. The moment felt unbearably intimate. Seeing him in such a state, touching him when he was so vulnerable, felt like far more than a fuck buddy would do.
Knowing that he still protected me, wherever he went inside the horrors of his mind, only worsened the nagging emotion in my chest that felt an awful lot like love. I didn't want to want
