Micah hauled his ass to AKM. He
decided to skip the haircut Tristan had suggested, going straight for the
training center after checking the dashboard. Thank fuck the place was empty.
Micah wasn't in the mood for a whole lot of hey-buddy-where-have-you-been?
Which was exactly what he feared he would get when someone saw him. Trace,
Malek, and Io would know not to bug him, but Arion didn't seem to get that
Micah didn't like to talk, and Micah hadn't figured out the new guy, Severin,
just yet. And Tristan was Tristan. He'd be all up in Micah's ass for weeks.
He had been going at the weights
for a good half-hour and was in the middle of an eight-rep of bench press when
Arion appeared at his head, spotting him through the last four. Banging them
out, Ari helped him re-rack the bar as Micah sat up.
"Hey, Micah. Are you sure you
should be hitting the weights this hard?"
Micah glanced askance at him, his
trademark scowl firmly in place. He noted how Ari eyed the loaded bar with
concern then dropped his gaze to the faint, almost-healed scars on his arms.
Arms that probably looked much too thin to Ari to be pushing that kind of
weight.
"You got something to say to
me, Ari?" Micah's gruff voice was full of
fuck-off-and-mind-your-own-business. It was clear Arion thought Micah's head
was screwed on either too loosely or too tightly, but either way, it meant he
thought Micah was in no shape to be here working, let alone pumping out eight
reps at 315 pounds.
Arion shrugged, wavering briefly.
The two had never gotten along, and Micah had a way of intimidating those
around him. Maybe it was his brooding silence or the ever-present scowl that
never left his face. Hell, it could have been the nonverbal fuck-off his body
language threw out like a warning beacon: Leave
this one alone, or he'll fuck your world right to hell and back.
But Arion always seemed to find the
courage – or was that stupidity – to go on chasing the Devil. Fucking hell, did
Ari think he was a priest and Micah was a soul that needed saving? Sometimes
Micah wondered if the fucker had a death wish or if he simply enjoyed stirring
Micah's pot. Every time they had one of these discussions, Micah thought Arion
was ready to back down – that he had finally realized that Micah didn't
appreciate his invasive prodding. Then he seemed to gather his courage and plod
on, pissing Micah off even more. As if Arion had room to talk for the fucked up
life he lived. One of these days real soon Micah had a feeling he and Ari were
going to throw down if this shit didn't stop.
He just wanted to be left alone.
Let his soul burn in hell. As long as it meant he would have his privacy, Micah
didn't care.
"Where have you been,
Micah?" Arion said, shaking his head in frustration.
Micah turned his head and glowered.
The little asshole had done it again, keeping on when he should have just
walked away.
"Fuck off."
"You look like shit. How much
weight did you lose? Thirty pounds? How much? And what the hell did you do to
your arms?"
This was how Arion was, a pain in
his ass and a thorn in his side. "Who died and made you my
conscience?" Standing, Micah blew him off and started to walk away, but
that little cuss just got up and followed.
"Nobody, but…"
Micah spun and grabbed Arion by
both shoulders and shoved him against the wall, growling. "Everyone else
gives me my space, why can't you?" Giving him another hard shove, he
knocked the back of Ari's head against the wall.
A chuckle brought Micah's head around.
The door to the gym was propped open and Trace was standing just outside, a
spank-ass grin splattered on his puss as he nodded once at Micah. He chuckled
again and walked on.
Micah turned back and released Ari
and smoothed his sweat-soaked hair off his face.
Ari's eyes flashed wide as he
reached around and rubbed the back of his skull.
"What's going on?"
Micah turned again and saw Severin
enter the training center, his long, blond hair pulled back. The new guy
whipped the towel from over his shoulder, his eyes flicking between Micah and
Arion before leveling an icy glare on Micah.
"Nothing," Micah said.
"Ari and I were just finishing. He was agreeing to leave me alone. Weren't
you, Ari?" Micah gave Ari a pointed look to emphasize that their
discussion was over.
"I can see that." Severin
stepped in front of Arion and bristled as if preparing for a fight.
Micah picked up the protective
energy rolling off Severin like ripples in water after a rock broke the
surface. He frowned curiously through narrowed eyes as he glanced back and
forth between them. What the fuck was brewing between these two?
"It's okay, Sev," Arion
said, stepping out from behind him.
"No, it's not okay." Sev
looked over his shoulder at Ari. "He's being a dick."
Micah scoffed, drawing Severin's
attention again. "Cool out, pretty boy. I won't hurt your boyfriend. And
you couldn't take me, anyway."
"You think?" Sev tossed
his towel to the side, taking a step forward like he was ready to throw down.
"No. I know." Micah knew
not many could take him down. Even with his massive weight loss, he was bigger,
stronger, and more ruthless than most. Severin was a big-ass boy, though, with
shoulders wide as a Mack truck – wider than Micah's, even though Micah had him
in the height department. Still, Sev was young. But Micah had superior
strength.
With a last, lingering glower in
Arion's direction, he turned and walked out, leaving them behind so he could
escape to the showers, where he hoped to get some privacy.
No comments:
Post a Comment