The Right Kind of Wrong

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to even be in here?” Emily questioned as she looked at Chris who’s feet she was holding to the ground when he was doing sit-ups, like the really serious ones where he literally sat up and not the sissy mini ones. She could literally feel the looks from the other people in the gym and it was slowly starting to freak her out.

“Well, technically, you're not,” Chris replied as he pushed himself up in a sitting position, stretching his arms out behind him. “If you're not on the team, you're not allowed in here, but I talked to someone and they said it was fine, as long as it doesn’t become a regular occurrence,” he added with a smile as he stood up and literally pulled her up to her feet.

“Yeah, cause that just makes me feel so much better,” she rolled her eyes as she followed him through the maze of machines.

“Don’t be such a worrywart,” he told her as he stopped, pushing her up on the treadmill.

“What are you doing?” she frowned at him, having enough sense to stand along the stationary metal along the moving space of it.

“You’ve helped me out long enough,” he decided as he continued pushing the many different buttons. He’d bribed her into coming along with him as he’d been ordered to do some extra workouts highlighted on making sure that he would be able to play without aggravating an injury he’d picked up during a previous game. They’d planned on hanging out after his classes and he didn’t want to cancel just because he had to work out, and knowing her as well as he did, he asked if she wanted to come along.

To which she agreed, only she hadn’t realized just how much she would have to do. She’d kind of figured she’d help him and do a few things on her own, she hadn’t calculated on the fact that she would have to do things she hadn’t done since she herself was a dedicated athlete some many years earlier.

“That doesn’t mean I want to go on the treadmill,” she pointed out frankly, sending him a glare as he simply smiled up at her.

“Humor me,” he threw back at her. “Besides, I have to go talk to the trainer before I continue and you need to get a bit sweaty,” he smirked as he turned to her, enjoying the soft blush that spread over her cheeks.

Shaking her head slightly, she watched as he walked across the room, knocking on a door before disappearing through it. Glancing around the room, avoiding actual eye contact with the people she didn’t know, she figured, what the hell, and pressed the start button on the machine.

If he had to go, she wasn't just going to stand around and feel uncomfortable, not when she was in the middle of a gym that was one of the best ones she’d seen in a long time.

The talk having taken a lot longer than he expected, Chris didn’t return out in the main gym area till most of his teammates had left the place and he was happy to find that Emily hadn’t spent the entire time on the treadmill, but had moved on to doing other things. Interrupting her, he was happy when she agreed to let him help her with stretching after she was finished. And not in the naughty way his mind immediately imagined…

“Any of them bothering you?” he asked, silently vowing to hurt anyone who did.

“No, not really,” she shook her head as she tried to keep her balance standing on just one foot. “Hexie was trying to tease me, but he quickly learned it was futile,” she shrugged simply as he watched her closely.

“I’ll mess anyone up who did,” he tried to coax a more elaborate answer out of her.

“No one bothered me,” she smiled, rolling her eyes at him. The whole protectiveness thing he had going, was rather attractive if she thought about it. And whilst she hated making comparisons she often ended up doing just that when it came to Chris, she often – against her own will – compared him to Erik. Though he had yet to come up on the losing end, which scared her out of her own mind.

“If you say so,” he said, not all that convinced that his teammates and friends had managed to be well-behaved, they usually sucked at it so it wouldn’t really come as a surprise if they had done, or said something to her.

“I do,” she insisted, a wide smile across her lips as she sank down to the mat covering the floor. “Besides, I like your teammates,” she reminded him. “And I actually do find them rather funny, some of them are even hilarious,” she pointed out.

“Right,” he nodded understanding. “You haven't yet been a victim of one of their pranks, or spent twelve hours in a deserted airport in the middle of nowhere with them,” he said knowingly.

“Thankfully,” she agreed. “Did the trainer say anything?” she asked, turning the attention away from herself and back onto the slight injury the whole team was worrying about.

“Not really,” he shrugged simply. “I have to do my exercises, make sure I don’t irritate it even more and that’s about it, there’s nothing I can do besides it,” he told her as he wrapped his arms loosely around his knees and watched as she moved around on the mat, needing little to no assistance or suggestions at all.

“But that’s a good thing though too, right?”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s not much in everyday life I can do to aggravate it further,” he agreed with her, taking a sip of her water.

“Hey!” she called him out on it. “That’s mine,” she pointed out.

“So,” he shrugged, looking at her questioning.

“So it’s mine,” she said simply, looking at him as if he was crazy.

“What are you…?” he frowned as he watched her.

“I don’t like germs,” she admitted quickly, reclaiming the water bottle from him. “I hate when people drink from my glass, or eat with my fork or whatever, and especially when they think they can just take a sip from my water bottle without my permission.”

“You don’t mind when I kiss you,” he pointed out, looking at her like she’d suddenly grown a second head.

“You did not just say that,” she said darkly, she really hated it when people made fun of her slight OCD.

“I didn’t,” he retreated, quickly getting to his feet as he recognized the look in her eyes, the look that said she really wasn't messing around.

“Yeah, you should be worried,” she nodded slowly as she too got to her feet.

“I like you,” he tried, but the look remained. “And besides, who’s really afraid of germs, they’re all around us, all the time,” he pointed out, barely catching the dark look that passed over her features.

“You really shouldn’t have said that,” she smiled sinister at him as she picked up the now almost empty water bottle and raised it.

“I'm injured, remember,” he called out to her as he slowly backed away from her, trying to find somewhere to hide from view, but they were in the most open part of the gym, meaning he came up very empty.

“Yeah, in the head,” she smirked over at him as she saw the worry pass over his eyes.

“Please?” he all but asked, yelping slightly as she finally threw the bottle, hitting him square in the stomach.

“Hell no,” she called back at him, but still walked forwards, slowly approaching him. She didn’t want him hurt, or rather hurt even more, but she didn’t like when people made fun of her.

“You always pitch like that?” he questioned as he looked up at her, clutching his stomach slightly, it hadn’t really hurt, surprised him was more like it.

“I guess,” she frowned confused. “I didn’t hurt you, right?” she asked worriedly. That would really be just like her, hurt one of the seniors, especially as their captain was already out for an unknown length of time after a bad tackle just some weeks earlier.

“No,” he shook his head quickly, straightening back up. “You just surprised me, I was pretty sure you’d miss, or at least have a weaker throw,” he admitted.

“Sorry,” she apologized sheepishly.

“Don’t be,” he assured her. “Ever tried playing something with a pitcher?” he asked curiously. He knew she’d played both soccer and hockey, she even drabbled with tennis for a few years but he had never heard about any other sport.

“No, not really,” she shook her head as she picked up the thrown water bottle and straightened up, looking up at him. “Why?”

“You should try out for the softball team,” he suggested. “They could really use you,” he smiled crookedly.

“I don't think so,” she disagreed. “Besides, I'm not good enough for that,” she stated. “I played a form of softball/baseball/whatever when I was growing up, but everyone did that, and when we actually tried softball in school…it wasn't a pretty sight,” she remembered with a shudder.

“You should try you,” he insisted. “It can’t hurt,” he pointed out.

“I don’t think so,” she smiled up at him. “Drop it,” she whispered before pressing her lips against his, effectively shutting him up.