Challenging the Center (Santa Fe Bobcats #6)(18)

That had him raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh yeah?”

She grinned. “Yeah.”



Michael checked his phone, shocked he hadn’t missed a call or text from Kat while he’d been in the meeting. Come get me, I’m tired. By now she had to be bored senseless.

Unless she was causing problems. Again. Jesus.

Michael broke into a jog as he made his way from the offices at the facility to the weight room. The moment he hit the hallway, he heard the masculine laughter and cheering.

God, please let her not be doing some weird dance routine on top of a weight bench.

But as he opened the door, he wasn’t sure which was worse: her dancing on top of a weight bench, or…

“Lambert!” Caleb walked over, a smile on his face. “She’s a frickin’ machine! She’s about to kick Rodman’s ass. This is the hardest I’ve seen him work in weeks.”

Michael maneuvered around the guys who were standing watching the back of the room where the mats for stretching were and found… well, damn.

Kat and Rodman Holiday were both hauling ass on burpees in what he quickly realized was a competition. They placed their hands on the floor, thrust their legs back into push-up position, hopped them forward again, then jumped as high as they could, arms reaching above them. From the looks of it, they’d been going for a while. Each had a counter standing beside them, keeping track of the number completed as the rest of the guys shouted encouragement—or heckling for Rodman.

Then someone in the crowd yelled, “Ten!”

The countdown was on, everyone joining in with, “Nine, eight, seven,” like it was freaking New Year’s Eve in Times Square.

“How long have they been doing this?” Michael asked to nobody in particular.

“Two minutes total,” came someone’s answer just as the crowd reached one, and both contestants flopped down on the floor, chests heaving, both dripping in sweat.

He maneuvered himself around the guys watching to walk up beside the mat. Kat rolled over onto her back, laughter lighting her face. Her sweatshirt was long gone, and she wore only the sports bra and her shorts. Her stomach and the fronts of her thighs left a sweat print on the mat.

“What the hell is going on here?” he asked. God, that sounded pompous.

“What… does it… look like?” she gasped, hand clutched to her stomach as she fought for breath. The hard muscles of her abdomen contracted and stretched with each labored breath.

“Friendly competition,” Rodman said with less effort, though he was clearly still winded.

“And the winner, in two minutes with sixty-three burpees, is Kat Kelly!” Caleb walked between them and grabbed one of Kat’s arms, holding it as high as she could reach from her position flat on the mat. She laughed, and Rodman cursed and rolled onto his stomach again.

“I told you not to slow down, man,” his counter said while the guys all cheered and jeered simultaneously.

“This,” one of the linemen said with a leer, “is going on Facebook.” He held up his phone and started walking away, several guys following, asking to see the video.

Lovely. Just fantastic. More video evidence of his complete ineptitude. He started to walk to the teammate with the phone, but then his strength coach clapped a hand over his shoulder. With a mental groan, he watched it unfold, helpless to stop it.

Kat finally sat up, taking the towel another guy handed her before receiving a fist bump of congratulations.

“Can she come back every day?” Caleb asked under his breath. “Seriously, just breathed new life into some of these jackwagons who have been going cruising on autopilot for too long.”

Michael started to snap no, she sure as hell can’t come back when he looked around him. Yeah, several guys were still hanging by her, but others had gone back to their workouts and were, to his mind, attacking it with an intensity he hadn’t seen in a while in the weight room. There were always a few guys who lived for weights, but mostly it was a routine they had all become complacent in. Now, though…

Huh.

“It’s up to you, man,” Caleb continued as he checked his clipboard. “But as far as I’m concerned, she’s welcome back, as long as she signs a waiver.” He left Michael to check in a few new arrivals to the weight room.

“Hey.” Kat walked up, zipping her hoodie as she approached. “I can catch a cab back to the apartment if you have practice.”

“I do,” he said slowly. “What, not gonna ask if you can use the sauna or get a massage?”

She wrinkled her nose as she flipped the hair of her ponytail from the collar of her shirt. “That’s going a little too far. Using weights that nobody else is currently using is one thing. Taking up a trainer’s time for a massage… something else entirely. Though I wouldn’t say no to a recommendation for a massage after hours.”

He surveyed her, watching as she still worked to slow her breathing.

“I told you I wouldn’t get in the way. I meant it.”

And he saw she did. For all her antics and love of attention, she had stayed on the fringes in the weight room and actually used it for its intended purpose. And used it well.

“You impressed Caleb,” he said, walking out of the weight room with her. “The strength coach back there. He said you can come back anytime if I was okay with it.”