Page 63 of Rush

A sharp jolt fires straight to my core, hot and undeniable.

This is a bad idea.

I’m still standing there like an idiot, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, when Broderick finally notices me.

He pauses mid-set, dropping the weights on the rack with a soft clunk.

Turning, chest glistening with sweat, he drags a towel over his face and neck before tossing it over his shoulder—and when his gaze lands on me, those sharp green eyes glint with amusement.

Oh God, I’m in trouble.

“Well,” Broderick drawls, as he leans back casually against an exercise contraption of some sort, arms crossed over his very bare, very sweaty chest. “Enjoying the view?”

I blink, cheeks burning, and immediately snap my eyes up to meet his—far too late, judging by the dimples and slow grin spread across his face.

“Sorry, I…” I stammer, clearing my throat and looking away like that’s going to erase the fact I’ve just undressed him twice over with my eyes. “I didn’t think you’d be, uh…working out.”

He raises a brow, still watching me, clearly loving every second of my discomfort.

“Well, it is six in the morning,” he teases, that smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Gotta start the day somehow.”

“Right. Sure. Gotta have hobbies right,” I mutter, mentally screaming at myself to get it together.

But Broderick just laughs quietly, he walks over and grabs his water bottle taking a sip and, oh God, watching him move is worse, because now I can see the way every muscle shifts under his skin, and it’s definitely getting hotter in here.

When he stops a few feet away, those green eyes sweep over me, lingering just a little too long—cataloguing the way I’m still visibly flustered.

“Want to tell me what brings you here at sunrise? Or were you just hoping to catch me half-naked?”

I shoot him a look, but there’s no real bite in it—my heart is still pounding way too fast.

“Maybe a little of both.”

His grin widens, and for a moment, something sharp and electric passes between us. Just like it did last night.

But before I can lose my nerve completely, I cross my arms and try to act casual—failing miserably, probably, but I try.

“Actually, I need to talk to you,” I say, a little more serious now, feeling my nerve slipping.

His playful smirk fades a little, replaced by something softer, more concerned.

“Yeah? About what?”

I hesitate, the words right on the tip of my tongue—Be my distraction. Make me forget—but they refuse to come out.

Instead, I shrug, pivoting away like I’m not completely exposed under his gaze.

“I need your help to, um…get fit. Work on my cardio,” I blurt out, the words forced and awkward.

Broderick cocks his head to the side, arms folding casually across his broad chest, but his eyes are sharp.

“Do you?” he says. “Surely your team can arrange a personal trainer for that?”

I shrug, he’s right, biting my lip, eyes darting anywhere but him—because if I meet his gaze too long, I’m afraid I won’tsay what I really want.

Then, he steps forward, closing the space between us in two easy strides, and all the air in my lungs evaporate.

He’sso close.I could reach out and touch him, run my hands over that delicious, sweaty torso still glistening in the light. If he’d let me.