End Game_Bellevue Bullies Series Read online

  So really, I’m uncertain if I hate her or I love her. One thing is for sure, it wasn’t only our discussion that had me tossing and turning. No, it was the fact that I couldn’t get the image of Ryan’s sexy abs and thighs out of my head.

  Damn it, I’m a hot mess express.

  Which is why I’m so glad I decided to do yoga on this fresh and sort of brisk morning. Sitting on the mat I borrowed from Coach Melissa, I close my eyes and move my head in a circle to stretch. It’s four a.m., and because of that, just the serious yogis are here. I only come to this class once a month, and I hide in the back for the simple fact that I suck at yoga. I know. How can a gymnast suck at yoga? I dance and flip on a four-inch beam, but I don’t know. It’s not right for my body to be bent into those positions and told to hold them. It’s actually really obnoxious, but I need the stretch.

  I let my head fall back as I exhale.

  “Is this spot taken?”

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  Opening my eyes, I see a pair of striking blue ones looking down at me. Ryan points to the spot beside me. “You saving that for someone?”

  He doesn’t wait for my answer; he sets his mat down before I ask, “What in the world are you doing here?”

  “Yoga.”

  “Be real.”

  He gives me a look as he yanks off his pants, those damn short shorts teasing me. “What? I love yoga.”

  “Hey, Justice. Dude, so glad you could make it.” I look up as the instructor slaps hands with Ryan before doing some stupid bro handshake.

  “Yeah, man, I’ve been beat lately, but I gotta stretch my back. It’s getting tight.”

  “No problem. I’ll make sure to focus on that.”

  “You’re a rock star, Prince.”

  Prince? What the hell?

  “You know it.” He shoots Ryan a thumbs-up before walking away.

  Ryan grins down at me. “Told ya.”

  I look away, annoyed. Of course he does yoga. The universe is out to get me, I swear. I try to ignore him as he stretches in different positions, but of course, he’s Chatty Cathy at four a.m. “Did you and Amelia get all your work done last night?”

  “Yes,” I grumble, pointing my toes to the front and then back.

  “That’s good. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable yesterday.”

  “No big.”

  He chuckles before sitting down beside me. He’s a good two feet away, but he might as well be on top of me. My body is trembling. I want to watch as he stretches, but I am trying to be indifferent here. “You look mad.”

  “I always look mad.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “What?”

  “You don’t. You usually have this sweet little tilt to your lips and your eyes are bright, but right now, you look stabby.”

  I want to laugh. “Whatever,” I say, stretching my arms. “If you’re so good at this, why don’t you go to the front?”

  He gives me a sideways glance. “’Cause I get a wedgie in these shorts. I don’t want girls checking out my ass.”

  I groan. Now I’m going to be checking out his ass! “Oh please, you love it.”

  “Nah, unless you want me to go up there so you can check out my ass in secret. I’ll do it for you.”

  Please, God. Please don’t let him do that. “I am here to concentrate on stretching, not checking you out.”

  He leans toward me, his very spicy and sexy-smelling cologne filling my nose. “But you are.”

  I cut him a look. “I am not.”

  “Oh, you totally are,” he teases, his eyes bright, before shaking out his wrist. His eyes are so stunning, and it’s then that I notice something.

  “Where are your glasses?”

  “I don’t wear them when I’m working out. They fall off my face.”

  “Oh.” Oops, that was obvious. “Makes sense.”

  “Why? You like them?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  I swallow hard. “I don’t care.”

  “You do.”

  Oh, I am going to kick him. “Leave me alone.”

  “But I love making that little spot tick.” When he presses into the skin right along my jaw, I back away, gawking at him. My face is on fire, and my heart is in my throat. Jesus, I’m pathetic! He just touches my face, and I want to dry-hump him.

  What in the world is wrong with me?

  His lids fall a bit, such a sexy smolder on his face as he looks me over. “Man, you’re hot.”

  I side-eye him. “Please.”

  “Please take you, or please leave you alone?”

  I groan again. Thankfully, Prince’s voice fills the little area we have all gathered in. There are probably fifteen of us, so we don’t take up much room on the quad. While it isn’t my ideal place to do yoga, thankfully, no one is really awake at four a.m.

  Except Ryan.

  As Prince goes on about body and soul, I feel Ryan’s gaze. I try so hard to ignore it, but apparently, the universe likes to fuck with me. Shooting him a sideways glance, I whisper, “Stop.”

  “But you’re so beautiful.”

  I glare. “You’re being obnoxious.”

  He grins. “I don’t think it’s fair to expect me to keep that sentiment in. You are gorgeous, and it’s only right that I tell you.”

  He’s impossible. Shaking my head, I close my eyes as instructed, trying to push away the bad thoughts, like punching Ryan in the throat, and let in the good thoughts, like climbing on top of Ryan and hoping he knows how to use his hands. Inhaling deeply, I let my breath out in a whoosh before repeating the action over and over again. Prince is rambling on about peaceful soul and mind. Usually, I use this time to think of my day, to go over what I want to do in the gym later, but that’s not the case this morning.

  No, I have one eye open, watching Ryan.

  Where the hell did his shirt go?

  He’s sitting on his legs, his toes tucked under his ass as his palms face forward. His head is back, his throat long and corded as he looks up at the sky. Each breath he draws in fills his chest, and the muscles that move and flex are downright wrong, leaving me completely and utterly breathless.

  “All right, let’s go to Chaturanga.”

  Damn it. I missed the first pose.

  Catching up, I get into the Chaturanga, and while I’d usually look up at the front, I look to where Ryan is doing it effortlessly. His body is a machine, and each part is fine-tuned, leaving me purring like a fucking cat.

  Damn it!

  “This is my favorite.”

  My brows shoot to my hairline. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, it’s so good for the midsection.” This dude actually lifts up his hand, running it down his midsection while still holding himself up. “So good. The burn.”

  “Show-off,” I spit at him, and he chuckles while Prince tells us to release. Falling to my stomach in a huff, I connect my gaze with his once more. “Aren’t you cold?”

  “No, why? My tits hard?”

  When he looks down, I do too, and then I start snorting like a pig. “What in the world?”

  He laughs with me, his eyes bright as he shrugs. “What?”

  “Why would that be the first thing you think of? You don’t have a shirt on, and it’s cold, duh.”

  “Yeah, I guess, but usually, that’s how I tell people are cold. Hard nips.”

  I’m still giggling. “You’re a freak.”

  “So are you,” he accuses. “You’re laughing.”

  I shake my head. “Whatever, it was funny.”

  “It was, and I have to admit, you’re even prettier when you laugh.”

  Pressing my lips together, I look away as my face fills with color. “Oh, hush.”

  “Never.”

  Prince says something, but I miss it. “You’re distracting me.”

  He shrugs. “This is boring stuff anyway. I wanna do something fun. Like Bakasana.” When he transitions into the position