Pulling mats off a rack, I arrange them in a rectangle on the hardwood floor of the gym. A routine wouldn’t be complete without a soft melody of music guiding my body to move. I skip toward the desk resting against the far side of the room and press the scan button until a song that is worthy blares through speakers that have been sporadically placed throughout the vast room. Making my way back to the mat, I lean forward and stretch, knowing that my body is going to hate me in the morning.
Gymnastic routines allow an athlete to show off a combination of power, flexibility, and grace. It’s sort of like acting in a Broadway show without dialogue. Your precise, fluent movements and choreography become your words —only they’re not spoken, they're performed.
My movement becomes synchronized with the music, and I lose myself, completely submitting to what had long ago become a natural instinct for me. With each twirl, flip, and leap, I can feel myself getting caught up in the rhythm of this moment.
This is who I am.
A euphoric feeling of being free—of expressing myself without words—runs through my veins. The only true love I’ve ever experienced has been gymnastics.
I swivel around, turning my back to the large mirrors, and prepare to do a pirouette. I’m startled to see Ryle leaning against the desk opposite me. I must’ve been lost in concentration to not hear him come in. Although his presence makes me weak in the knees, I’m not ready to end this moment. I’ve yearned for this again, but up until now, I have been too pathetic to stand up to my aching back.
Like any confident gymnast, I make eye contact with my audience and continue my routine.
Ryle unconsciously licks his lips like a predator that’s about to pounce on his prey. He’s never seen anything as beautiful as what he’s witnessing. In this moment, he knows that Adaley is in her element. Whatever is happening outside of the gyms walls ceases to exist. Hell, he even feels like his presence doesn’t matter.
He watches her like he’s seeing her for the first time, remembering that she mentioned being a gymnast at the bonfire. He recalls being a jackass and daring her to do a flip, knowing damn well that he could have asked her to come sit on his lap and she would have. But, she'd gladly accepted her dare and had done it with poise. It had looked as effortless as asking a basketball player to toss a ball into a hoop. Now, his eyes stay glued onto the beauty in front of him, moving as if she'd been born to glide through the air.
He rakes in her body as she spins around and around. Her legs are muscular and toned. All he can think about is interrupting her to wrap them around his waist and claim her flawless body. Whatever that damn pink thing is that she’s wearing, it hugs her in all the right places. Never before, has Ryle ever wanted to bury himself in anyone as badly as he does right now.
Adaley is captivating, and he is done running from her
I finish spinning and plant my feet firmly on the mat and, as I've done hundreds of times before, I straighten my knees and slowly tilt my head up to see the judge’s faces. Except this time, it’s not a judge I make eye contact with. It’s a guy with the most tantalizing jawline and set of hooded eyes that I’ve ever seen. As soon as my gaze meets his, I become spell bound. I’m lost in Ryle’s sapphire eyes. I’m lost in the exultant feeling of just having completed a routine that I’ve longed to relive since my accident.
I am so freaking lost, that I forget to breathe.
“That was amazing,” he says, taking a step toward me. “I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as what you just did.” I lower my line of vision as he takes another step in my direction. “I—.” Ryle’s mouth tightens. “Fuck it.” His words are hoarse as they leave his lips. “I have to kiss you.”
In a millisecond, my body is lifted into the air. The sudden coolness of my back against the mirror sends chills down my legs as they wrap firmly around Ryle’s midsection. One of his hands holds me around my waist, keeping me upright. The other lightly grips the back of my neck.
I feel him gently brush his lips over mine. It isn’t like when Tank stalled and asked for permission to kiss me. This feels more like Ryle is committing the shape of my lips to memory. There’s a thunderous beat in my chest as he parts my lips with his. Our noses brush lightly against the other’s before he devours my mouth with deep, sweeping laps of his tongue. With each stroke, a wave of ecstasy washes over my body. My legs begin to slacken their grip on his hips. He notices. Holding my butt firmly in his hand, Ryle pulls my legs higher on his waist. All the while, his expert tongue coaxes mine without missing a beat.
I’ve never experienced anything like this. I’ve never wanted to push my boundaries as much as I do right now. As our already fervent pace quickens, my hands slide up his sculpted arms and tangle themselves in the wealth of his dark hair.
Gentle but needy moans slip by his lips, and I can tell he's trying, unsuccessfully, to slow down. It's as if he’s finally allowing himself to savor what is happening between us, only to give in to his cravings. His swollen lips retreat and return greedily, like his brain is trying to make sense of this moment.
Nothing needs to make sense.
It just is.
Ryle is one hundred percent in charge, and I don’t mind in the slightest. I’m happy to be lost in this moment and to have someone guide me through this bliss.
Once we’ve mastered our scintillating kiss, his lips move over my chin to my neck. Running his mouth over the most delicate part of my exposed skin, I squirm in his arms. I need more. My body demands it. “Ryle, I need more. Please,” I breathlessly moan, as my body itches to feel his naked skin against mine.
“Shh… just enjoy this. I am.” He whispers the last part before taking my bottom lip in his mouth and sucking tenderly on it.
“Oh my fucking God. Are you kidding me?” A high pitch screech interrupts us like a gallon of ice water being tossed over our heads. The heat that passed between us moments before is now extinguished by Naomi’s presence.
“What are you doing here?” Ryle’s words are cold and demanding. He pins Naomi with his gaze as he waits for her response, guiding my legs down his hips and away from his body.
“What do you mean? It’s a gym. I obviously came here to work out. I didn’t know I’d be walking in on a porno.”
Sexual tension makes me a little ballsy, and I open my mouth. “Have you ever even seen a porno, darling? We were just kissing. Maybe you need to get your eyes checked.” My response seems to amuse Ryle.
“That’s irrelevant. I don’t need to watch porn when I’ve slept with him,” she gloats.
My cheeks instantly color. I don’t even care to question if she’s telling the truth or whether it’s just another one of her little stunts. “Stop being all butt-hurt that he’s kissing me and not you. Maybe you guys did share something, but it fizzled out the moment I came to town. While my middle finger wants to salute you for your efforts at getting under my skin before, I’m not going to let it happen now, because I’m classier than that. Now if you’ll excuse us, I think you said you had some fat to burn.”
Wow. That felt liberating.
“I hope you fall and get your dick caught in a meat grinder, Ryle,” Naomi seethes as she spouts off with childish remarks in her need to have the last word.
Ryle and I watch in silence as she stalks off and leaves the gym with smoke blowing out her ears. It’s quite amusing that she got so riled up by catching us making out. It leads me to believe that there was something going on between the two of them.
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to,” he says, catching me off guard. He must’ve noticed the doubt that slowly crept up my neck and made itself present on my face.
I want to remind him that there’s still a part of me that thinks he’s a pompous ass, but I refrain. “You’re right. I really don’t want to know.”
“You’re lying.”
“Are you sure? Because I am most definitely sure that I don’t want to hear the details of your sexual history with Naomi.” My lips form a
thin line of displeasure.
“That’s a lie though.” Ryle’s burning eyes hold me in place. He totally just called me out in the most maddening way. “You do want to know. You’re curious. I can see it in your eyes. They’re beckoning the truth even if your mouth is refusing to ask for it.”
I try to swallow, but it feels as if my pride is lodged in my throat.
“Just ask me what you want to know. Take it as a free pass. Or…” He rubs his index finger on his chin in thought. “Let’s make a game out of it.”
“You—mature, brooding Ryle who never seems to talk about anything of importance—want to play twenty questions?”
“Ouch.” A deep chuckle greets me. “But yeah. I want to play.”
This isn’t a good idea. I know I’m going to end up spilling my guts, and I’ll still know nothing about him. I start to protest. I want to tell him that I’m not interested in his little endeavor to get to know me, even though I’m desperate to know him. A lightbulb flickers over my head. Maybe this is a good thing. I can limit what I tell him and hopefully get to learn more about what makes Ryle Benson tick.
“Count me in.” I sigh heavily.
“Follow me then.” He holds out his hand, and I reach forward. Our fingers intertwine and fit together perfectly. It scares me how normal this feels.
“What are you doing?” I ask, as Ryle turns off the gym lights and locks the door behind us. “We’re not closed. What if I get fired?”
“For starters,” he says while tugging my hand and guiding me to the employee locker room. “Kaiser and I are friends. He won’t be firing you. And secondly, I own this gym.” Unconsciously my brows furrow, as I recall Kaiser mentioning Ryle being a major benefactor of Braxton University. I make a mental note to ask what’s up with that as one of my questions. “Here, sit down.”
Our hands unlock as I sit on a small love seat positioned against the wall. Ryle sits opposite of me in a chair that I would personally never sit in. It’s ratty and looks like they found it sitting outside by a curb. “So we’re just going to sit here and take turns asking questions?” I know that sounds immature, but this whole ordeal feels a bit childlike. He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he springs up and walks back through the doors we just entered. A few seconds later, he returns with an Uno box.
I’m so confused.
“We’re going to play Uno. This is how it’s going to work. Each color will have a different meaning. How about,” he opens the box and slides the cards out. Pulling the first card away from the deck, he looks down at it in his hands. “Red. Red means embarrassment. Whoever draws this color has to tell the other something embarrassing that happened to them.” He slides the next card off the deck and peers down at it. “Green means something we want to do or aspire to do. Yellow is something we fear and blue is truth. This is the important card, because we can use it in different ways. We can tell the truth about anything…even if it’s not something we’ve ever done but something we want to do. That will go in this category.”
“Wow. You really have this all planned out. Are you sure you didn’t rig the deck?”
He holds the stack out in front of him carelessly. “Here. Shuffle them, if you think I’m a cheater.”
Now this feels like a test. “I’m good.”
Ryle shows no signs of relenting. “No seriously. Shuffle them. You can deal first, and if we still have questions after this round, I’ll shuffle next.”
I grab the cards, shuffle them, and then count out seven for each of us. Placing the deck on a small table between us, I flip one up. It’s red. This should be funny.
“Okay, red. Let’s see. One time leaving the dugout, I slipped on my shoestring and fell smack dab on my ass.”
“That barely constitutes as something super embarrassing, but I’ll let it slide, Benson.” He laughs, and the sound is so sweet and carefree. He should really do it more often. “Yellow. Okay let’s see.” I let out a puff of air as I try to think about something that makes me scared. “I am deathly afraid of spiders. I know they’re little and I can kill them with a swing of a shoe, but I’m still scared of them. Every night before I go to bed, I walk around my dorm and look up at the ceiling, checking for creepy crawling little demons before I climb into bed.”
“Now that’s a good one. I’ll make sure to warn you if I see any hanging over your head tonight.”
I shiver from head to toe. “Ugh. Please stop!” I laugh while silently praying that he’s kidding, and that they don’t have an infestation in this place. “Let’s move on.”
“Damnit, blue.” He holds the card up and fans his face. “Truth. How about we change the rules,” he stalls.
“No way, buddy. You’re the one who made them up and wanted to play this little game. Now man up,” I joke, trying to put him at ease.
“All right. Here goes nothing. I, Ryle Allen Benson have never, ever, seen the ocean. Pathetic right?”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty. Why?”
“How are you twenty years old and never been to the beach?” I look up, only to see Ryle’s eyes on fire like a volcano on the verge of erupting. I know I’ve hit a nerve, yet again.
“I don’t know—I guess I was never lucky enough to have anyone give a damn about me—much less care enough to take me on vacation.”
I knew we shouldn’t have started this dumb game.
“I’m a virgin,” I blurt out. I guess I want to draw his attention somewhere else— anywhere—so that he doesn’t have to think about his shitty past.
“You didn’t draw a card.” His tone is apologetic.
“I didn’t need to.”
“Why did you just tell me that?” A curious look appears on his face as a muscle quivers along his jawline.
“I just…I didn’t mean to bring up the past, and I wanted to take your mind off of it. You can guess that my admission is red.”
“You’re embarrassed by that? If the tools on this campus knew a girl like you were a virgin, they’d be lining up half-way around the block. It’s not something to be ashamed of. Be prideful of the fact that you’re not easy. Trust me. I like you a lot more, having learned what I just did.”
I swivel quickly, turning my back to him. My eyes gloss over. I am utterly humiliated, and I caused it. Good one, Adaley. The admission causes my stomach to twist and turn inside. I feel like someone is literally wringing my insides with their bare hands. As much as I wish I could take it back, one thing he just said pulls me into reality. He likes me a lot more knowing that I’m a virgin. Great. Now he’s just going to want to bang me to say that he nailed a virgin.
I sense his nearness before I feel the cushion next to me dip down. I fling my hands out in despair and quickly cover my face. Using my hands as a shield, I breathe in and out, on the verge of an anxiety attack. I used to get them a lot after my accident. Feeling a shudder of humiliation, I force my eyes open, only to be greeted by Ryle’s. This time, they’re not dark and hooded and full of mystery. They’re full of compassion. This is a good look for him.
“Don’t hide the truth from me. I’m the one who wanted to play this game, remember? I’m the one who wanted to get to know you—that includes even the things you’re not ready to tell me. I want to know it all.”
“What did you do with Ryle?” I ask flatly. “I mean, where is the guy I’m used to being around—the one who doesn’t give a damn about anything or anyone? Because the version of him sitting in front of me is freaking me out.”
“There’s only one Ryle. Sometimes I’m a dick, and sometimes—very rarely—do I wear my heart on my sleeve. You better watch it though, because if you push one of them away, you push both versions away.” His tone both arouses and infuriates me.
My heart stumbles before finding its rhythm again. Words fall out of my mouth before I realize what I’m saying. “What’s going on between us? I want to know if I’m just imagining this chemistry that I feel, or if it’s real and tangible. Because quite frankly I feel like—.�
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I feel lips press tightly against mine. His mouth now feels familiar, like God sculpted ours tongues precisely for the other’s benefit.
I pull away slightly. “I feel like I’m dreaming.”
Ryle’s voice is husky when he responds in a whisper. “If this is a dream, then I don’t ever want to wake up.”
“Tonight was a total waste of make-up,” Zoe sneers as she walks through the door. Tossing her cross-body purse on the bed, she balances herself against the back of a chair and slides her heels off one by one.
“Details. I need details, lady!” I sit perched on my twin bed, legs folded like a pretzel.
“Kaiser texted me and asked if I wanted to hang out. He said—and I quote—‘get some dinner.’ Naturally, I got all dolled up, thinking we were going out to a restaurant. Hell, I wasn’t asking for a five-course meal—I’d have been fine with O’Charley’s!” she huffs, before continuing on her rampage. “He picked me up, and we drove to Ryle’s apartment. Granted, he had pizza already ordered, but I’m still mad.”
Ryle’s apartment? Did he lend it out for his friends? Was it a sex pad or something?
“So what happened?”
“We had sex and ate pizza,” she says, like it’s the most natural sentence in the world.
Does he offer his apartment up a lot? Is that why he’d gone to the gym? To give Kaiser and Zoe some alone time? It would make sense. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t work? Does he charge people for using his apartment? My mind is reeling.
“Earth to Adaley.” Zoe snaps in front of my face. “Did you catch any of that?”
“I caught the part where Ryle offers his place up to his buds as a cozy flesh pad.”
“Number one, that’s gross. Number two, he’s not having sex in it, so that’s all that matters right?”
Bad Intentions Page 14