5. Rolls Off the Tongue

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The scent of sweat hung heavy in the air while grunts and strained groans reverberated off the walls. Metal clanged against metal, ringing in Shawn's ears as he placed the weights on the ends of the bar. Once satisfied he had enough, he lowered himself onto the bench and slid his body all the way to the top, his feet on the ground and the bar positioned over his chest. Bohnes stood at Shawn's head, spotting just in case he needed help—which he wouldn't, he never did.

He grabbed the bar, his hands evenly spaced, fingers placed exactly along the grips, and lifted. After several sets of the bar lowering and thrusting forward with each exhaled breath, beads of sweat formed on his brow and a slow burn spread over his chest and through his biceps. It ached in a way that could only be described as satisfying. With one last push, Bohnes slipped his hands under the bar, helping to guide it back to its resting place.

Shawn sat up, lifting the bottom of his black wife beater to wipe his face before switching positions with Bohnes. As Bohnes started to lift, Hailee settled on the bench next to them, sitting on the edge and curling a dumbbell. "So, what happened yesterday?" she asked, her eyes intent on Shawn.

He glanced up momentarily. "What are you talking about?"

"With Camila." She switched arms. "She looked kind of shaken when you came back upstairs."

"Oh." He lowered his gaze back down to Bohnes, placing his hands under the center of the bar when he saw him struggling to push it up. "Her brother showed up."

"Really?" Hailee's brows shot up. "How did that go?"

"He's an ass." Bohnes finished his rep and Shawn moved in between them, lowering himself to a squat. "He got a little ... physical with her."

"Physical?" Bohnes asked, sitting up. "How so?"

Shawn shrugged. "It wasn't much, he just grabbed her, but there was something ..." He shook his head. "I don't know. Something about the way he did it and the look in his eyes ..."

"What'd you do?" Hailee peered at him.

Shawn stood. "I told him to get his hands off her if he wanted to keep all his appendages."

"Smooth, Shawn." Hailee chuckled.

"What?"

She rolled her eyes and stood, walking over to replace the dumbbells she'd used. "I bet she wasn't all that happy about your stepping in. She's pretty self-sufficient, that one." A smirk graced her lips when she turned around.

Shawn narrowed his eyes. "I don't care whether she was happy or not. Like I'm going to sit by and watch a guy twice her size grab her like that? I may be an ass, but I'm not about to let that slide. You females and your feminist crap ... Being independent and strong are one thing, but acting like you never need help or that you can handle everything on your own is just idiotic."

Hailee stepped over to him, her chest almost flush with his. "Are you saying women are weak, Mendes?" The venom in her voice washed over Shawn, ebbing and flowing across his skin in waves of prickling heat. "Because if you'd like me to prove it, I'll show you just how well a woman can hold her own against a man." She pressed her hand to his chest and pushed him back, hard.

Shawn caught her wrist and grinned. "Anytime, Haiz. You know I'm always up for proving you wrong, but we aren't talking about women with training. Camila is not you. She's not trained, and therefore does not have the advantages someone like you has."

"God, I so want to kick your ass right now."

Shawn moved past her, walking backward toward the sparring room and beckoning her to him with his fingers. "Come on then, princess. Show me what you've got."

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