Number 1 - AU
I yawned at the desk, eyes flitting over the gym machines before looking down at my phone screen and updating my status to 'officially bored'. Given that my last status was just 'bored', I had just taken life to a whole new dimension.
I started to stroll through the workout area. It was ten minutes before closing time and I was really hoping that there was no one left in the gym so I pack up early, my mind focused on the takeout I had in the fridge, leftovers from last night.
Unfortunately, my prayer went unanswered.
So I started to aimlessley stroll around the small gym, pretending that I hadn't just been checking out the guy in the black hoodie, at the height of masculinity, who was doing squats (you got it – arse full on show).
"Excuse me?" he said, grabbing my attention. I turned to face him, my eyebrows raised in question.
"Could you show me how to do a press up?" My eyes flitted down his body, and I was pretty sure that he'd done more pressups in his time than I had. Even so, I nodded and unzipped my grey jumper before dropping to the floor, leaving myself in a spaghetti-strapped tank top and some skin-tight jogging bottoms.
I crouched on the floor, balancing myself on my arms and pushing upwards before dropping down so my chin was in line with my palms. As I started to push up again, I felt a hand settle on my lower back, easing it downwards. It was too close to my arse for my liking.
"What are you doing?" I growled, quickly standing up and balling my hands into fists. I was angry, but I wasn't stupid enough to dismiss the fact that this guy could probably knock me out in one blow.
"Your form was wrong," he reasoned, his face a blank example of innocence. "What did you think I was doing?"
"So first you touch me in a way that I consider innapropriate and rather demeaning, and then you say that as a fitness instructor, I can't do a press up. How about you take my job?" I said sarcastically, hands on hips.
"Is it up for grabs?" He said jokingly, his lips pulled into a smirk. Then he amended his statement when he realised that I was truly pissed. "It's not your fault – I mean, you are ill."
"What?" I asked him, my eyebrows pulled together in puzzlement. "How did you know that?" Fear started to creep into my system.
"You've been sniffling for the past three days." When I didn't answer, he said, "Why don't you wear a sports bra?"
The question confused me quite a lot. "Why are you asking?" (AKA, was he interested? Is that why he was looking at my boobs?)
"Well I found it rather rude that I had to see your boobs hanging out your top earlier." My face turned bright red at his statement and I started to wring my hands together, looking down at my feet.
He cocked his head to the side, observing my movements. "What's wrong? Is something wrong? You know, the best listener is one that knows jack about you."
"It would be unprofessional to tell you about myself," I reasoned. But I wanted him to know. Why did I want him to know?
He scratched his chin. "Lemmie guess. Posessive boyfriend?"
I looked up at him with a scrutinising glare. "I was about to say pointy nipples, but that works too."
He took one step forward. "Don't lie to me, sweetheart. I can see straight through you."
I took a step backwards, hands dropping to my sides. "Sorry," I said sarcastically, wishing I'd punched hime earlier.
The guy laughed. "Don't apologise," he said, smirking. "It was quite a nice display."
I punched his shoulder (jokingly), and his smirk widened. "Do you wanna touch me that bad?" His eyebrow rose cockily.
"I have a boyfriend, jerk." I took a step back. I didn't want him to mistake my actions for flirting.
That's when he smirked at me. "That's the reason for the lack of sports bra, huh? Your boyfriend thought all of the straps were too sexy? Or does he think that sports bras have easier access?"
I looked at him in shock.
"My name's Patch, by the way."
"Are you saying that my boyfriend thinks I'd cheat on him? Because I'm not a cheat!"
"No, I'm just saying that you're boyfriends insecure and you're most definitely way out of his league."
"I think you owe me an apology," I said in surprise. "A really thorough one."
"I can do you one better than that. How about dinner?" And he grabbed my arm and whisked me out of the gym.
A/N So how do you like it? :)