23. Chapter 23

23

Hope

This is a bad idea, my mind complains as I stare at the gym building.

I tightly hold the bags and try to muster up the courage to go inside.

Open the door. You've come this far, might as well go a little beyond.

I repeat for the millionth time, but hesitation holds me back. How do people just do things?

A man steps out. He pauses when he sees me standing like a fool in the parking lot. Tall, lean, and sharp-looking, he approaches me, causing my pulse to drop.

Oh my God.

How do I go invisible?

I need the invisibility cloak. NOW!

"Hey. What are you doing here?" He rubs the little stubble covering his jaw.

"Hi." I heave a breath. Here it goes. Don't stop. "I'm looking for Heath. His best friend dropped me off saying he'll be here. I need to see him if that's okay. But I can come back later if he's busy." I look anywhere but his eyes.

The man smiles. "He's free now. We just had a spar. I'm his trainer, Paul. You can go right in. Take the door number seven. That's his room."

Wow. Heath has a personal trainer.

No wonder his body looks so hot and—

Stop thinking about his hot body.

I thank him and walk ahead. Upon entering the building, I'm hit with a gush of cool air and a terrible pungent smell that makes me shrink in disgust. Sweat. So much of it.

I search for room seven when I notice everyone in the hall is staring at me. Men. Lots of men. Mostly shirtless.

Great. Just great. I had to land in the spotlight.

Ignoring their gazes, I spot the room and dash toward it. I'm about to open the door when a guy around my age gets in my way.

"Hello." He smirks and gawks at me.

Suddenly I feel self-aware in my jeans and thin beige warmer. The clothes are baggy, but the way he peculiarly studies me, I might as well be naked.

"I need to go." I try to side-step him. He whistles and steps closer to me.

"I've never seen you here before. What's your name?"

I swallow hard and make a list of reasons why I thought coming here was a good idea .

Sebastian should've escorted me inside. I had no idea there'd be so many curious men, otherwise, I'd never come.

"I asked you something," he says in a curt tone.

I shiver but don't back down. "Please step out of my way."

"I will once—"

"Once I knock your fucking teeth then rip your fucking tongue out. Would that be enough for you to step the fuck away from her?" A cold, ruthless voice comes from behind me and everything and everyone stills.

Heath's warm presence burns my back but shields me from every pair of eyes looking at me. I don't feel exposed anymore.

The guy gulps hard and raises his hands "Woah! I didn't know she was with you, man." Fear lingers in his eyes, and he quickly backs away.

"That shouldn't have mattered. She asked you to fucking move, didn't she?" Heath comes around and gives him a strong push. He hits the nearest wall and groans.

With a glare, he spits out, "Calm the fuck down. There are rules."

Heath corners him. The guy spares me a glance and Heath pins him to the wall by his throat.

"Look at her again and you'll see how quickly I'll break the fucking rules for her."

Oh no. This is getting worse.

Feeling the temperature rise I grab his hand. His attention instantly moves to me, and he backs off. Opening the door, I pull us in. When I shut the door he traps me against it.

We're close. Too close . An inch further he'd be able to feel my heart thundering inside my chest.

"What are you doing here?" His voice is low and husky.

"I…" my eyes lock with him and I forget the words.

Slowly, his hands move closer to my waist, but he doesn't touch me. He stays there. Too close yet too far.

Heath cocks his head to one side as he watches me. "I asked you something, Rose."

A wet strand of his dark brown falls over his forehead and my breath falters.

He's handsome. Really handsome.

I've seen guys, but no one is as beautiful as him. The way every curve and contour of his face is carved makes every man I've ever dreamed about less. He tops every fictional man I've ever had a crush on—and they are perfect. He is just on another level of hot.

Rose . He called me by my middle name. I've never told him.

"How do you know my middle name?" I ask.

A frown embeds between his eyebrows. "I didn't."

"Then why did you call me Rose." He gave me a nickname. That only happens in books. I'm having a book moment right now.

His frown deepens. "I have my reasons."

"That's not an answer."

"I know, but it's the only one you're getting."

"But—"

"Now, what are you doing here?" I suppose he won't tell me.

"I brought food," I say.

A smirk lifts his lips, and he moves a little closer, but never too much where I start panicking. Somehow, he knows how to find the perfect distance.

Heath gently pries the bag from my hands. "What did you bring?"

I can't speak.

Moving back, he opens it. "Chow mein? I'm not a fan of Chinese, but I guess I'll eat it just this once."

Am I stupid or is Heath flirting with me?

"It's very tasty." Oh my God. Why did I say that?

"Are you bribing me, Rose?"

"Huh?" I can't focus on anything but the way his teeth sink into his bottom lip.

What is happening to me? I've never noticed that about a guy before.

There was no guy before. Only fictional men.

"Come here." Taking my hand, he leads me to the end of the small room.

Thick blue mats cover the entire floor. A black punching bag hangs from the ceiling at one side of the room. The walls are cream and there's a window overlooking the parking lot. There's also an AC. A table rests near the door that has his keys, wallet, and a gym bag. I assume this is his private room because it's just as clean and plain as his room.

We sit on the floor cross-legged. Quickly opening the takeout bags, I hand him the boxes and he watches me with a playful expression.

"What?" I offer him a fork.

"You bought it all, didn't you?"

I smile. "I thought it'd be different." Picking up my box I say, "You're always buying me food. Now that I make a little money, I wanna return the favor."

Heath shakes his head and takes a bite. "You didn't listen to me."

Disappointment stirs inside of me. "I…"

"Next time, save it."

We eat in silence. From the multiple glances I cast his way I can see he's enjoying the food, though he doesn't say a word.

"How did you know I was here?"

We've wrapped up the empty boxes and are sitting against the wall next to each other.

"Sebastian drove me here. He said this is where you are when you're not at home. I went to your house first."

He scowls. "It's not safe for you to be here."

I couldn't agree more. "I know now. I'm sorry that you had to…step in. I had it covered though." I give him a confident look.

Heath watches me, then chuckles, for the very first time. My eyes quickly focus on him, so I don't miss it. A film reel records the view and the sound like a memory to look at later.

Wearing only a black shirt and shorts, he looks young and carefree. And as he laughs, he's never looked more alive before. I like this look on him better than the grumpy, angry one.

He shakes his head. "You had it covered? I could see that." He bends his legs to his chest and sets his arms over his knees. His eyes set on me.

"I had a plan," I tell him.

A smile lingers on his lips. "Let's hear it."

Hugging my arms, I say, "I was going to escape and then text you."

"How would you have texted me?"

Right. I don't have his number.

"I could've asked Sebastian to text you." I shrug nonchalantly.

Heath retrieves his sleek phone from his pocket and hands it to me. "You want to talk to me, you text me yourself."

I put in my number and send myself a message. My phone pings and I quickly save his number.

"Done."

"Yeah," he whispers, not taking his eyes off me.

My head hurts from the claw clip, so I take it off. My hair falls in waves. I don't have long hair, but it reaches below my breasts if I bring it to the front. I'm about to tuck a few strands behind my ear when he catches my hand.

The air in my throat hitches.

All that I've read about these moments in books happens to me. Racing heart. Shallow breaths. Butterflies.

Letting my hand fall into my lap, he tucks the few strands of my hair behind my ear in a loose manner—they'd come in front if I moved even a little. His hand lingers on the side of my face, but he doesn't touch me.

"You have wavy hair," he says in a low, deep voice that draws every bit of my attention to his mouth.

"Not from the roots. It's straight then goes curly in the middle and at the ends," I elaborate as if he doesn't have eyes.

His eyes assess my hair from top to bottom as if memorizing it. "I can see that." Then his gaze finally meets my eyes. "I like it," he says.

We stare at each other. There's very little distance between us. We can kiss—

His phone starts ringing and breaks the moment.

I glance at the screen that shows the contact name ‘Dad.'

Heath lets his phone ring. The call ends and then rings again, but he switches off his phone and jumps up to his feet. "Let's get out of here."

Fifteen minutes later we're in a department store parking lot with a list of things he wants to buy for his diet plan. Apparently, it costs a lot to have a body like his.

And he has a body. A great body. Mouthwatering body.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to," he reminds me for the third time.

"No, it's all right."

After that little moment in the gym, I'm certain we're inching toward a line that isn't supposed to be crossed. We've just started being friends and I'm already on the verge of ruining it by catching feelings for him.

Heath gets a trolley. Together we enter the store and move toward the section that has these massive bottles of protein powder. Seriously, they're quite big.

He dumps four of them in the trolley with ease.

I watch him with an open mouth. They must weigh a ton.

"What?" he asks with a serious face.

"Do you need this many?" I eye him and the bottles.

"Two of them are for Sebastian."

I smile at his reply.

Next, we move to other sections. I push his cart and reach for the products he tells me to. This oddly feels like what friends would be doing. So, I don't think too much about how he stands next to me whenever there's a guy nearby or how he only tells me to get things that don't make me stretch my arm to the moon and flash others.

He's being considerate.

We're in the fruit and vegetables section when a voice raises goosebumps on my body.

"Why the fuck are apples so expensive? Do you get them from the black market or something?"

I see Dad's side profile. Instantly fear grips me.

"What do—" Heath leans over me. I jerk away from him.

He pauses.

"What is it?" he asks as his eyebrows scrunch together and he studies me.

I don't answer him. Instead, I search for my father.

I spot him a few feet away with his back turned toward us.

I need to go before he sees me.

If he saw Heath with me he'd kill me.

Not thinking clearly, I dash out of there. Going around Heath's car I sit on the ground with my back leaned against the trunk.

My head fills with his words.

What are you doing here with a boy?

You pathetic girl.

Your mom told me you're friends with boys.

Is this where you spend your time not studying?

I'll tell her how you're wasting time.

He would have slapped you.

Make a scene.

Scream at you.

The voices get louder. I can't stop the tears that fall from my eyes. All these words and sentences are vague images made up by my mind because I'm scared. I'm so very scared.

That morning when he fooled Mom and moved back home, I didn't miss the evil glint in his eyes or the wicked smile he sent me. That look haunts me at night. I know something big is coming.

My body is trembling. Nothing has happened but my overthinking mind has sent me into a place where I keep spiraling and losing control.

Someone crouches in front of me.

Blue eyes. They are the first thing that I notice, despite the tears.

I don't look away from him and neither does he as he slowly takes my hand and squeezes it.

"You're safe now. I'm here," Heath says to me softly, contrary to how his eyes blaze in fury.

"I'm fine." I don't want him to worry about me. I quickly wipe my eyes.

He arches an eyebrow. "You're telling me that you weren't having a panic attack?"

I shake my head adamantly. "I'm fine."

Realization dawns on me, that if it weren't for him, I'd still be stuck in my mind and thinking about scenarios that are all made up. How sick is that?

He stares at me with the heat of a furnace. "You're not fine, Hope."

I'm not . I know that, but he doesn't need to.

"Are you done with your grocery shopping?"

My attempt goes to the drain when he glares. "What happened? Did someone do something?"

"No." I look down in my lap.

We're sitting on gravel, and I've never felt more comfortable before—it's because of him.

"Then?" He probes the matter with determination.

"I saw someone and…" My next words would change everything between us. It's too soon for me to tell him that my father abuses me.

"Who was it?" he asks.

I shake my head. "Please let it go."

"Hope—"

I stand up and dust myself off. My way of putting an end to this conversation.

He joins me and says, "You can tell me."

I don't want to be a burden.

"We should go home."

Heath scoffs, but he doesn't push the matter for which I'm grateful.