Love Tap(48)

***

Stepping into the gym I find Camden by the ring taping his hands. It’s just us at his early hour.

His eyes rake me up and down and butterflies swarm in my stomach. I know he was watching me undress yesterday. I can’t deny that I liked it. Though I wish I knew so I could have been a little sexier about it. My shirt got caught in my hair, and my shorts stuck to my sweaty thighs.

My childhood feelings set aside, no woman could blame me for being head over heels for Camden. If they saw him, they’d be just as dick whipped as I am. Camden is ruggedly beautiful. He’s rough around the edges with a hint of pretty boy laced within the depths. His gorgeous blue eyes and sharp jaw hit you first. Then his thick blond hair and slightly crooked nose. And don’t get me started on his hands, they’re so manly you’d want to have him grab you under the thighs and manhandle you every day of the week.

Heading to the locker room he reaches out and grabs my arm, stopping me. I look down at this hand. My breath picking up at the simple skin contact.

“You give anymore thought to me training you?” he asks, dropping his hand. Instantly my skin cools, and I want the warmth of his hand back.

Swallowing, I nod.

“I have. What will Debs think if I have you train me?”

He shrugs. “I don’t really care.”

Popping my hip out I roll my eyes. Typical man.

“Look, how about you let me teach you some things, and Debs can arrange the fights and shit. I don’t have those kind of contacts like she does, but I know more about being in the ring than her.” He rests his arms on the side of the ring. His hair is slicked back today, showing his face off perfectly.

“Why do you want to train me so bad?”

He rubs the back of his neck in deep thought.

“To be honest, I haven’t been very excited about training or fighting in a long time. Not until the thought of helping you in the ring came to mind.” He glances back at me and smiles but his eyes don’t shine like I’m used to seeing. They look darker. “It’s all I’ve thought about since-helping you that is.”

He really doesn’t want to fight anymore does he? My heart skips a beat at the thought, and I want to ask him what happened while I was away. I know it’d be pushing it though. We just got on talking terms, and I don’t want to push him away.

“Here I was thinking you just wanted to cum on my new yoga pants.” I tug on the fabric of my pants, trying to lighten the mood.

His lips curve into a smirk as he pins me with passionate eyes, his look of torment fading.

“That was all you that night.” My cheeks flush, and I look away. I just walked myself into that one didn’t I? I’m still not convinced he didn’t come too.

“Alright, we’ll give you training me a shot.” I bite at my bottom lip nervously, my palms coating with sweat that this is really happening.

***

I tape my hands up, and of course they look like crap compared to when someone else does it, but it’ll get the job done. I sit on the bench, nervous.

Why am I nervous? I used to wrestle around with Camden all the time as kids. Rubbing my temples I know why I’m nervous. I won’t be able to focus on a word he’s saying, all I want is for his lips to take my breath away, or his hands to skim my breasts. For him to make me laugh, and for us to just be… us. I’d do anything to be the friend I once was with him.

This is going to take all the willpower I have to be professional.

After a short pep talk of keeping my focus on training and not on childhood crushes, or Camden’s immaculate chest, I leave the locker room. My heart is beating a mile a minute, the tune so loud it could be my walk out song before a fight.

Entering the ring, Camden is sitting down stretching. The muscles in his back bulging and flexing as he strains them. I close my eyes, trying to get my shit together.

“You stretch?” he asks.

Popping my eyes open, I freeze.

Crap, my mind was so busy I didn’t even think about stretching myself.

“No, I forgot,” I reply as my cheeks blush. Rookie move, Tate. Rookie move.

“First thing, always stretch. You don’t want to lose a fight based on you pulling a ligament,” he schools. I mask a smile and nod, but I already know everything he’s telling me.

Taking a steady breath, I sit down on the ring floor. “Touch your feet to mine,” he instructs.

Following his instructions, I touch my bare feet to his. They’re much bigger, and surprisingly soft. I reach for my toes and he leans forward, grabbing my hands, stretching us out.

The feel of his powerful hands gripping mine reminds me of how he picked me up so effortlessly and slammed me against the wall in his room. They’re so domineering, so capable of destruction, it’s hard not thinking about them all over you.

“Does it feel good?” Camden’s voice vibrates through my body and my eyes flick to his. His hooded eyes convey he’s playing with me.

I clear my throat and let go of his hands. Noticing mine are sweaty, I wipe them off on my shorts.

“What is in store for me from the famous Camden Steel?” I joke, my heart beating like a thunderstorm.

“Well for starters I want to see what moves you know, and see how well you can grapple. We need to work on that endurance of yours too,” he states.

“I don’t know many moves. Just what I knew from when we were kids and of course the famous YouTube,” I confess, rolling my wrists to flex the muscles.