Free Tackled by Love by Rachael Duncan

be damned if I do it now. To hell with them all.
    So why do I feel angry toward Landon? He never bullied me when we were in high school, but when his eyes flashed with a mixture of amazement and disbelief, it set me off. Is it so hard to believe that I could be somewhat attractive? That I wouldn’t keep getting wider as the years went on? He looked at me like he couldn’t believe that was the same girl. Whenever someone gives me that expression, I just want to yell at them and say, “WHAT? DID YOU THINK I WANTED TO BE FAT?” Apparently, I have some lingering resentment that I still need to work through.
    I’m so wrapped up in my thoughts that when I glance down, I’ve done an extra 15 minutes on this thing. I wipe my sweat off the machine and hop down. When I do, I collide right into a solid wall of chest muscles. A pair of hands place themselves on my shoulders to steady me, as I slowly glance up. My eyes scan this impeccable body, starting with a firm chest that I want to run my hands up. I glance a little higher to a very sexy, strong jaw showcasing a little stubble and quickly think of all the places I’d like to feel that stubble on my body. Feeling the heat of my desire, I take in his delicious lips and suddenly feel the desperate need to kiss them. I look up and lock my gaze with his hazel eyes that I want to get lost in. My first thought is, Where in the world did that come from? My second thought is, Oh God, I just collided my sweaty, smelly body into Landon and I’m slightly mortified.
    Giving me a knowing grin that tells me I totally got caught checking him out, he says, “Sorry about that. Are you alright?”
    I blink a couple times before I realize he just asked me a question. “Y-yes. I’m fine. Sorry I just got sweat all over you. That probably really grosses you out.” I take a step back from him, looking down to hide my embarrassment.
    “No worries, I’m used to it. Usually it’s 300-pound guys that are sweating on me, so this is nothing.” I look back up and he winks at me. I swear I just swooned. Wait, me? Swoon ? And wasn’t I just thinking about how much he pisses me off? I need to get my head checked, because clearly I’m bipolar. “Do you come here often?”
    At that lame attempt to start a conversation, I start laughing. And I can’t stop. He just said the most cliché line known to mankind and it seems so odd coming from him. For some reason, I thought he’d be a lot smoother than that. He starts chuckling beside me, then says, “Okay, that was really cheesy, wasn’t it?” His eyes are still lit up with laughter, making it a little easier to relax next to him.
    “Yeah, maybe a little. That’s okay though, I needed the laugh.”
    “Good, glad I could brighten your day at my expense,” he jokes. “What I meant was, how often do you come here during the week? This is my first time to this gym. My doctor has given me the okay for some light workouts and I don’t want to drive all the way in to town to use my trainer’s facilities. So maybe you could show me around.”
    My eyes start looking around the gym. It’s an old habit, one I wish I could break. But whenever an attractive guy is talking to me, I always scan the surrounding area for people watching. This stems from an incident at school.
    It’s my junior year and the only thing that keeps me going is the fact that I’m almost out of here. Walking to my locker, I count the days until I’m free. Only 256 school days left. It’s pretty sad that I have a constant mental tally of the time I have left to serve, but seeing the light at the end of the tunnel gives me strength to deal with the crap the kids give to me. Shutting my locker door, I turn around and see a guy leaning against the one beside me.
    “Hey, I’m Chad,” he says in a cool tone. Chad is the new kid in school. He’s very attractive and I’ve heard the popular girls whisper and giggle about him before. The fact that he’s talking to me has me feeling