The Coincidence of Callie and Kayden

her company.”
     
    I nod, feeling like a fucking idiot for coming down here. Since when do I chase down girls? “I see.”
     
    He flicks his cigarette to the asphalt and stomps on it with the tip of his boot. “Why are you here?” He eyes my dark jeans and plaid shirt.
     
    I shrug. “I have no idea. I really don’t.”
     
    He points a finger at the glass doors of the gym. “Callie’s inside. I’m sure she’d love to talk to you.”
     
    I pop my knuckles, even the ones that are taped up. It hurts, but it calms me down. “Okay, I’ll walk in with you for a second.”
     
    He grins and we weave around the cars toward the entrance of the building. There’s a big guy walking in with a bag over his shoulder and Seth moves up to hold the door open for him.
     
    “Can I ask what happened?” He nods his head at my hand as we step inside.
     
    I lift my taped hand up in front of me. “I hurt it during practice.”
     
    “That sucks.” He leads the way around the treadmills to the back area where mats are set up. The room stinks of salt and heat and is filled with clanking noises from the weight machines. There’s upbeat music blasting through the speakers to pump everyone up.
     
    Callie is near the back of the mats, kicking at a bag the dangles from the ceiling. I don’t like how happy I am to see her, or how happy my body is to see her. Emotions and want rip through me like a fucking wave.
     
    She’s bouncing around on her toes with her jacket off. She has a tank top on and her hair is pulled back. It’s the most skin I’ve seen her show and I enjoy the view; the freckles on her shoulders, the arch of her neck, her collarbone. The tight pants she has on give me a great view of her ass and her legs.
     
    “Don’t hurt her,” Seth says, leaning in my face. “I fucking mean that.”
     
    I blink at him. “What are you talking about?”
     
    He backs toward Callie. “Don’t hurt her,” he repeats, and then spins on his heels, putting his back to me. He whisks up to Callie, and says something to her.
     
    Emotions flood her face as her gaze darts to me. She timidly waves her hand and I walk over to her with my hands tucked in the pockets of my jeans.
     
    Her white bra is showing through her shirt and she crosses her arms over her chest.  “What are you doing here?” she asks, tracing the toe of her shoe back and forth across the mat.
     
    “I was just driving by and saw Seth’s car out front,” I lie. “So I thought I’d stop in and say hi.”
     
    “Hi.” She presses her lips together.
     
    I shake my head and chuckle under my breath. Circling around the punching bag, I give it a little shove, and then dodge to the side when it flings back at me. “You really weren’t kidding about the kick boxing thing.”
     
    She tightens the elastic around her ponytail. “Did you think I was saying it to try and impress you?” She flutters her eyelashes as she steps to the side. I question if she did it on purpose, to try and flirt with me. I doubt it. I’d be surprised if she knew how to flirt.
     
    “Well, I was hoping you were.” I punch the bag with my good hand.
     
    Her gaze flickers to Seth who’s messing around with small dumbbells, shaking his hips as he sings to the song on the radio. “Nope, this is what I do for fun.”
     
    “Are you any good?” I eye her tiny frame with doubt.
     
    Pieces of her damp hair frame her face as she places her hands on her hips, trying to look tough, but all I’m focused on is her bra showing through her shirt. “You want to find out?”
     
    “Oh, big words for a little girl.” I’m flirting with her and I know it’s wrong for so many reasons, but it’s the most alive I’ve felt in a long time. I pick up one of the gloves from the corner of the mat and put it on before positioning my hand out to the side. “Give it your best shot.”
     
    Her eyebrows dip together. “You want me to kick you? Really? What if I hurt you?”
     
    “I absolutely want you to kick me,” I say and then trying to get her riled up, add, “I’m not worried about getting hurt.”
     
    Her blue eyes turn cold, her expression serious as her fists rise in front of her. She angles her body sideways, stepping back on her foot. She’s got pretty good form, but she’s so little that I know it won’t hurt.
     
    She pivots her hips, springing up on her toes, and the bottom of her sneaker collides against the glove. My arm shoots back and my foot slides along