“Sorry!” One yells from the back. “It won’t happen again.” I angle my body so I can get a glimpse at who I’m talking to, but they’re all the way in the back, and I can’t see between all the bodies and bags.
“All right, I’m going to demonstrate stance one more time—girls in the back, please pay attention so you can keep up.”
Everything runs smoothly as I transition to the different types of punches—jab, cross, hook, and uppercut. I go slow, making sure they can all keep up and walk around as they practice the different punches once with their bags.
“You need to angle your body more to the right. And part your feet,” I instruct to one girl. “That’s it. Keep your chin up.” She demonstrates for me once again. “Good.”
I notice I’m running out of time, so I walk back toward the front of the class and go over basic kicks—front, side, and roundhouse. I demonstrate several times and tell them all to practice with me.
After a few minutes, I have them rotate between punching and kicking. I remind them to focus on keeping their stance while working on both.
I look around and notice many unbalanced girls. I chuckle to myself as I see them all try really hard. I make my way to the back since I haven’t been there yet. I notice a few girls stumbling as they try to switch between punching and kicking.
“Steady.” I grab her hips and angle her body the right way. “Balance your hips and keep your feet apart. Flex your arms and focus on keeping everything tight.” I align my body with hers, showing her exactly what I mean.
“Like this?” Her voice is laced with seduction and I know exactly what she’s doing.
“Yes. Great.” I back away and brush a hand through my hair. This is definitely going to be a long eight weeks.
I walk behind the last row and watch as they all try to mimic my moves. There are a couple of girls on the way end whom I presume are the ones that stumbled in late.
I rub the back of my neck as I watch the one on the end. She has legs for days, all tan and solid. It’s not hard to notice them, but her stance is all wrong as she pushes her ass out and bobs her feet back and forth.
Oh, god.
“There’s a reason being late to my class is not something I usually allow,” I growl, gripping her hips with both hands. I immediately feel her body tense from my fingers. I push myself closer to her and she shivers underneath me.
She’s clearly nervous around me, so I take the opportunity and adjust her body to what her stance should be. I place my foot in between her feet and push her foot farther to the right, opening her legs wider.
“Make sure your legs are parted. Bend your knees slightly.” I hear her swallow. Hard. She doesn’t speak. She only nods at my demands. I can feel the heat radiating off her skin the longer I touch her. “Relax. You’re too tense,” I say against her ear. Her long blonde hair is pulled up in a high ponytail, exposing the goose bumps on her neck and shoulders.
Her body eases into mine as she straightens her back and perfects her stance. My foot is still in between her legs along with my hands on her hips. She trembles, her body giving her away completely. She’s obviously affected by me and from the way that I’m touching her. I haven’t even seen this girl’s face, but I know there’s something about her that makes me eager to spin her around.
“Perfect,” I whisper.
At that moment, it’s just her and me. I feel her steady breaths as I stand against her. Back away, I tell myself.
Hell no.
I notice the rest of the room is silent as everyone stares at us. Shit. I rub both hands up her arms and land on her shoulders, placing a quick, easy pat. “Good job,” I say casually as the class watches me intently. I hear her breath hitch, as I feel something rough against my thumb on her right shoulder.
I glance down and notice a scar underneath her thin tank top strap. My own breath hitches as I recognize that very fucking scar.
Chapter Ten
Cecilia
I can’t believe I made it through another year of college. It ended up being better than my first—much better. I was finally able to open up more and even make friends besides my roommate, Katelynn.
I met Brandon spring semester in World History. He sat behind me, and we were matched up to be partners on an assignment. He’s smart, funny, and so sweet. The very opposite of Bentley’s domineering behavior.
We had spent six weeks together researching and planning our presentation. We’d meet at the same café every Tuesday and Thursday, and he’d always buy me a latté and a croissant, without even asking me. He always insisted that I needed my caffeine and food. After a while, we’d hang out outside of class and study sessions. I found myself really opening up to him and feeling comfortable in my own skin. He made me feel again. He had become a really good friend, and I was truly grateful for that.
On the day of our presentation, we both stood up and spoke as the slides displayed pictures and graphs. It really went perfect because he was the perfect partner.
The last slide was our ‘credits,’ which was really just our names and references we used in making the presentation—or so I thought was our last slide.
The class applauded lightly, and I began shuffling the papers on the podium together so I could go back and take my seat. However, Brandon clicked one more time to a slide I hadn’t seen before.
Counting Stars by One Republic begins playing through the speakerphones as I read over the slides.
Cecilia West…I’m crazy about you.
Crazy about your face.
Crazy about the way you tap your feet when you’ve had too much caffeine.
Crazy about how you scrunch your face up when you’re thinking too hard.
Crazy about the way you snort when you laugh too hard.
Like I said…crazy.
My eyes widened as I read over the words. The class was stunned silent as he clicked for another slide.
Cecilia West…Please, tell me you’re crazy about me, too.
Otherwise, I’m just plain crazy.
I stood frozen in place. The entire classroom was quiet, looking eager for my answer. Even the damn professor was smiling like a hormonal teenage boy about to see tits for the first time. Fuck…I bet he was in on it.
God, this is so embarrassing.
I turned and looked at Brandon. A hundred feelings rushed in that I hadn’t ever felt before. He was one of my best friends. How had I missed this? Had he always had feelings for me? Suddenly, I was seeing him for the first time. His charm, his looks, his wall-of-steel body. How had I missed it?
Bentley. Oh, right.
Jackass. He ruined me for all men. It was hard not comparing every other guy to him. My feelings for Bentley were raw and real, and came out of nowhere. Those feelings needed to be bottled up and put away. I had to move on.
I told him yes and we’ve been together ever since. The room filled with gasps and applauses, embarrassing me completely, but I felt lighter somehow. Like I had finally decided to let someone else in.
* * *
Cora begged me for two weeks to go to this new intro to kickboxing class with her, so finally, I agreed. I was sick of her begging me, so I caved.
“This better not leave any bruises on me,” I groan as she drives us to the gym. “I haven’t worked out in like…forever. I’ll probably fall and hurt myself.”
“Stop whining. It’ll be fun. Plus, we can impress all the guys with our new moves.” She wiggles her eyebrows as if that should sell me on the idea.
“What guys? You mean the old, drunk ones that come into the bar every night?”
Cora and I both got our summer jobs back. She and Simon spent another school year in Florida while I stayed in Nebraska with Katelynn.
“School just ended. Trust me. College guys will be coming in.”
“And why does that even matter? Are you talking about Simon coming in every night?”
Simon and Cora are still pretending they aren’t anything, but I’m not stupid. Once I
called Cora and she answered the phone half-asleep. She quickly brushed me off saying her guy friend was out grabbing donuts and that she had to go. Curious, I called Simon right after and he told me he was out running to the bakery. When I asked what he bought, he said donuts.
Ever since then, I’ve tried to catch them in their lies, but they’ve made it pretty hard. In person, they pretend to hate each other, but behind closed doors…well, that’s a completely different story happening.
“I don’t care about Simon. But yeah, I’m sure him and his stupid friends will come and bother us.”
I grin as I watch her cheeks blush as she talks about Simon. She’ll never admit it though. I’ll have to physically catch them in the act—which won’t be something I willingly want to see.
We end up stuck in traffic and end up being fifteen minutes late. “Shit, I hate being late.”
“Let’s just not go in,” I offer. “I’m sure we’re not allowed to come in late anyway.”
“Fuck that. I paid for us to join this class.” She shuts the engine off and grabs her bag. “We’re going. Let’s go.”
I reluctantly follow her inside. She slowly opens the door to the studio, but I don’t catch it in time and it slams shut.
I close my eyes, embarrassed. Shit.
Cora announces our apologies and grabs my hand to lead me to the back row. “C’mon, we can hide back here.”
I take the very end spot in the last row, hoping to keep eyes off me. I have no idea what I’m doing and am still pissed Cora dragged me here.
I don’t notice him right away. In fact, it’s not until I hear his voice that I instantly recognize him. I angle my head toward the front where he’s standing and see him—all six feet plus, messy golden locks of him. He’s barely changed in two years, yet he looks different. He’s definitely more buff, which seems hardly possible considering how built he was back then. However, he’s obviously been working out more and paying more attention to his physique for his modeling career. And the eighteen-year-old girl from two years ago is still very affected by him. My body responds to him the same, my heart—still shattered and ashamed.
I try my best to stay out of his view until I can successfully bail and never return. I can’t tell Cora because if I tell her now, she’ll definitely make a scene. I finally broke down last summer and told her the whole truth about Bentley and Leighton Enterprises. I told her everything I knew about my dad and the lock box that I’ll be allowed to open next year. But she doesn’t need to know that our new kickboxing instructor is the Bentley.
About midway through the class, my nerves get the best of me, and I almost tell Cora we need to leave. Instead, she leans over and whispers, “He looks really familiar.”
Shit. Of course. Bentley’s face is fucking everywhere. Now do I tell her? Or just suffer through the class until it’s over and never return?
I’m almost in the clear with ten minutes left of class before he begins walking toward the back. I turn my body away from him in hopes he doesn’t come this way. I pretend to be working on my punches and kicks when I feel him behind me.
His voice. God, his voice fucking ruins me. I immediately tense up at the sound of his coarse tone. It’s the same tone he’s used many times when we were in bed together—his domineering tone. It’s sexy as hell, and it use to soak my panties every time I’d hear it, and, unfortunately, this time is no different.
My body tenses the moment I feel his hand against me. Does he know it’s me? Did he recognize me and was now slowly torturing me?
My breath hitches for the hundredth time when I feel his thumb rub against my scar. Oh, god.
I expect him to make a scene or even yell at me to get out of his gym, but he doesn’t. I soon realize the entire class is staring at us. His thumb rubs against my shoulder once more before he backs away and begins walking to the front of the class again. My body screams at the loss of his touch.
Fuck me.
“Uh, great session, everyone. I’ll see you all Thursday.” His voice is anxious, and I know I have to get the hell out of there—fast.
Everyone begins packing their things and swinging their bags over their shoulders. Cora is immediately to my side with her mouth agape.
“Holy fucking hotness! What the hell was that?” she asks half-shocked and half-amused. “I wonder if he has a twin.” She cocks her head as she continues staring at him. He’s surrounded by girls who are all chatting him up, flirting I’m sure, with the infamous Bentley Leighton.
“He doesn’t,” I answer without thinking. “I mean, he’s an only child.”
“I knew you knew him!”
I eye her, signaling her to keep her voice down. “That’s Bentley…Leighton,” I whisper.
“Shit,” she whispers back, getting another look at him. “I should’ve known.” She smiles wide. “What are the fucking chances?”
“Yeah, what are the fucking chances,” I groan. “What the hell is a model doing teaching kickboxing classes anyway?”
She doesn’t get to answer because both our heads snap up to the front of the room where another instructor waltzes in, shooing off his own personal fan club.
“Let’s go,” I say firmly. “I have to get out of here.”
The other instructor places a hand on his upper arm and a tinge of anger flutters through me. She’s laughing up at him, and then he leans down and kisses her cheek.
God dammit. I need to get out of here now. Being around him brings feelings to the surface that I’m not allowed to have anymore. Feelings I left behind long ago. Or tried to anyway.
Feelings that make me feel guilty for having.
“I’ll walk behind you. Lead the way.” She grabs her bag and begins walking behind me as I walk along the wall, as far away from him as possible. I secretly thank the other instructor for distracting him as we make our way through the door and out of the gym.
“You better start talking the second we get in that car.” She points a finger and scowls at me.
“There’s nothing to say. I’ve told you everything,” I remind her. She throws the bag across the car roof just before getting in.
I shake my head at her as I walk to the trunk and wait for her to pop it open. I shove the bag in and shut it, relieved to be leaving.
I think too soon.
The second I shut the trunk, I see him.
He’s staring at me as if I’m his last meal, and I’m not sure what to think when he begins walking toward me.
“Ceci,” he growls as we come face to face.
“Bentley,” I say formally. He steps closer to me, instinctively making me take a step backward. “I didn’t know you worked here,” I blurt out. I swallow hard at his intensive stare. “Just so you know.”
He brushes a hand through his hair, roughly. I can tell his mind is spinning just like mine is.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, taking me off guard.
“Well,” I begin hesitantly. “Cora actually signed us up, and well, she made me come.”
“No,” he says roughly. “What are you doing here…in Omaha?”
I swallow, confused by his words. “I live here. What are you doing in Omaha? Aren’t you like a world-renowned model or something? Why are you teaching an intro kickboxing class?” I ask more defensively. Who the hell is he to ask what I’m doing here?
“I thought you’d be off living at college,” he admits. “And I’m taking some time off, didn’t want to travel as much. I teach a few classes here in my spare time.”
“I’m on summer break,” I explain. “I live back with my mom until fall semester.”
“Oh, right. I hadn’t thought of that.”
I cross my arms and take another step back, needing to keep a safe distance between us. “Sorry to have interrupted your class.” I walk around him and head toward the passenger door. “Don’t worry. I won’t be returning.”
I grab for the door handle, but he firmly takes my elbow and spins me around to face him. “No, you shou
ld come back.” He stares intently into my eyes, and I can’t find any words to say back to him. Hell, I can hardly find my own air to breathe. “Just don’t be late next time.” He releases my arm but keeps his stare.
“I’ll think about it.” I turn and open the door, getting in and slamming it behind me.
“Drive,” I tell Cora.
* * *
“Well, that was intense,” she finally says half way back to my house.
“No, that was awkward. I haven’t seen him in two years. Holy shit.”
“He’s hot on camera, but damn, he’s fucking delish in person,” she gushes.
I tilt my head toward her and scowl. “Don’t even.”
“A girl’s allowed to appreciate a nice piece of man-meat, thank you. And appreciate I will…Mondays and Thursdays for the next eight weeks.” She laughs.
“Then you’re going alone. I am not coming back.”
“Oh, yes you are. It’s our only nights off from the bar. You have to come.”
“I don’t know,” I mumble just before we arrive at my house.
“Just think about it. Ignore the fact that Bentley Leighton is your incredibly sinful, hot model that you used to sleep with and just come to class to learn kickboxing.” She smiles as if she’s just made this whole thing easier on me.
“I hate you right now.” I grip the door and open it, letting myself out.
“No, you don’t. You love me!” she yells just before I slam the car door in her face. I smirk to myself because I really do love her, dammit.
I walk into the kitchen to my mom making dinner, stirring something in a huge pot.
“What are you doing?” I ask suspiciously. It’s past seven and there’s no way she’s making an actual home-cooked meal.
“Making a late dinner. I’m glad you could join, because I want you to meet someone.” I raise an eyebrow at her.
“Who?”
She stops stirring and turns fully toward me. “A guy I’m dating.”
“What? You’re dating? Since when?” I nearly shout at her. When the hell did this happen?
“Cecilia, calm down. I’ve been seeing him a couple months now and it’s becoming serious, so I wanted you and Nathan to officially meet.”
The Intern: Vol. 3 Page 6