Tough Love - Chris Sturniolo

Workout

Chris

Hockey wasn't my life, but I loved it. Matt and I had played as kids and it became a constant in my life without meaning it to be. Anyone who knew me knew I had a fuck ton of energy and nowhere to put it, but hockey gave me somewhere to do that. When I got drafted to my uni for hockey, my brothers celebrated with me, and the girls just flowed in. Something about girls and hockey players, they flocked.

On my way to the gym for team workout, I checked my phone out of habit. One text from Bella, another from Ava, one asking what I was doing tonight, the other telling me about her day. I locked my phone without replying. I'd get to that later. Mark was on the team too. He was cool, a center like me, and he was always at practice first. We shared an apartment but he still managed to get there earlier than me every time. He was already chilling outside the gym on the hallway bench when I walked up.

"Sup bro," I dabbed him up.

"Just waiting for women's hour to end," he said, running his hands through his hair. Women's hour was always right before our practice, and reserved for women only so they could have the privacy of the gym. "Looks like time's up though."

Workout was no joke, we had a regimen, and when the clocked started, you were either in at 5:00 on the dot or you were late.

Mark picked up his bag and followed me in. My routine started with the bike for a warmup, then whatever coach and our trainer had lined up for us individually. I walked in like it was any other day, but it wasn't, I just didn't know it yet.

The thing about women's hour being before our practice, was that we walked in on a gym full of women. I would've felt uncomfortable intruding on their space, but hockey lived by the clock, and rules were rules.

I walked in, bag slung over my shoulder, and headed for the bike. Hat on, headphones around my neck, I was ready to go.

What I wasn't ready for was Anastasia on my usual bike.

I spotted her across the gym, panting with her hands behind her head, sweating in a sports bra and tight shorts. Her long legs were gorgeous, peddling like it was nothing, and the shine of sweat on her chest sent my blood south in an instant, before my eyes flicked up to hers and found she was looking directly at me. Fuck yeah.

"Well if it isn't little miss sassy," I said, approaching the bike and dropping my bag against the wall.

She panted before replying, slowing her peddling.

"Ugh god, I thought I'd seen the last of you," she said in reply. I gave a sly smile. When we'd met in the apartment kitchen and I made my stupid flirty jokes, she immediately bit back with attitude, and something about it set a fire in me. Something about her was exciting. She had me on my toes.

"I was kinda hoping for a cute nickname back," I said.

"Nothing about you is cute," she replied, peddling slowly and cooling down.

"See I just don't agree with that," I answered and she rolled her eyes. "This is the first time I've seen you here."

"And hopefully the last," she replied quickly, slowing to a stop and catching her breath. My heart kind of sank a bit at the rejection.

"Now why would you say that? Are you trying to hurt my feelings?" I answered, playing up my disappointment.

"Your feelings?" She laughed. "Alright, flirt, whatever you say."

I laughed at her assessment.

"You're right, feelings aren't my thing," I confirmed.

"I figured as much," she said, stepping off the bike. I caught a glimpse of her plump ass and knew I was done for. Her long ponytail swung along her back, baby hairs slick in sweat, and without her glasses, I could see her round dark eyes and black eyelashes clearly. This girl was fucking bad.

"But hey, if you come by the apartment again some time, I could make you feel something you'd like," I proposed, smiling.

She rolled her eyes again and headed for her own workout bag against the wall, grabbing a small towel and dabbing her hairline. I snuck one more glance at her long legs and gorgeous ass, then turned to the bike and hopped on. "Still warm," I said, trying to joke around and lighten the suddenly tense mood. She turned and gave me a disgusted face, and I was immediately overcome with shame.

"Have some tact, Chris," she chastised me, shaking her head. I laughed lightly through our weird interaction, and quickly realized none of my usual tactics worked on this girl.

"Sorry," I relented, punching in the settings on the bike. "I didn't mean to be weird, just kidding around," I admitted. She was silent by the wall for a while as I started peddling. Then she walked in front of my bike and stopped for a moment. Her eyes scanned me up and down slowly, my hair, my neck, my shoulders, my torso, down to my thighs and my feet, then back up again.

Pouring a sip of water into her mouth from her bottle, she swallowed as she met my eye, and said, "You're not forgiven," and walked out of the gym. I watched her wide hips the whole way out.