As his eyes went over her form, he was pleased to see she was dressed in gym attire, but it was feminine. She'd apparently thrown caution to the wind now that her cover was blown, and wore a pair of form-fitting black yoga pants under a gray T-shirt that looked like its sleeves had been ripped off. He caught a flash of a bright pink sports bra through the large holes where the sleeves had once been as she shook out of her athletic jacket. Her hands were already wrapped, he noticed as she stretched her slimly muscled arms out behind her, rolling her head around on her neck. She glanced over her shoulder at him, and he gave her a half-smile and a nod of acknowledgment before turning away to face Rex again.
"Ah, shit," Rex crowed quietly. "Looks like your girlfriend came back after all. Damn, who knew she had all of that under those baggy-ass clothes?"
"Shut up," Heath said, pointing a finger at him warningly. He glanced around at the other guys, who were still crowded around the ring, but all of their heads were swiveled in Drew's direction as she pounded away at her bag, her ear buds in place. They were laughing and making low comments about her shape, her attire. He snapped his fingers to draw their attention and scowled when they finally looked at him.
"Don't look at her," he said, a sharp edge to his voice. "Don't talk to her, don't breathe in her direction, don't think about her. Leave her the fuck alone. I see any of you fuckin' wit' her, your ass is mine. Copy that?"
There was a round of terse, disappointed nods and Heath turned back toward Rex once more, popping his mouth guard back in place. His sparring partner was openly smirking at him, cocking his head.
"Was that you having her back?" Rex asked, shaking his arms out at his side before adopting a fighting stance. "Or…you marking your territory?"
Heath glowered at him, lifting his fists and making a "come on" gesture.
"'Cause you may as well have gone over there, lifted your leg, and pissed all over her if that's what you wanted to do," Rex went on, that stupid smirk never leaving his face.
He was still speaking when Heath rushed him; he knew it wasn't particularly sportsmanlike of him to do so, but he wanted to shut Rex's dumb ass up before Drew might actually hear what he was saying. Rex took the hint as well as a hard, sharp elbow to his solar plexus and shut up, and they continued with their sparring session. Gradually, the novelty of the "new girl" in the gym wore off, and people continued to go about their normal business until Heath realized it was closing time.
The guys trickled out after trips to the locker room and gathering all their things. Rex checked if Heath needed him to do anything, but Heath waved him off and Rex left. Heath retreated to his office and toweled himself off, changing into the clean shirt he kept in the bag under his desk before turning off the light and locking the door after him. The lone sound of fists against punching bag met his ears, and he followed it around the ring to where she was still going at it.
She was covered in a fine sheen of sweat and had shucked her ripped up gray T-shirt as she pummeled the bag. Her ear buds were still firmly in place, and she had tucked her ponytail into a roll on top of her head, loose strands sticking wetly to the back of her neck. He heard her sharp exhales with every punch thrown, seeing her ribs contract tightly with the pushing out of breath. His eyes traveled the length of her back, noting the indentation her spine made all the way down, the well-developed muscles there flexing and moving with every powerful thrust of her arm.
It was obvious she had completely lost track of time, and hadn't noticed Heath standing at a respectful distance behind her. He reached out and tapped the back of her shoulder lightly, quickly. He was surprised when she jumped a mile, flinched, and recoiled away from him, the shoulder he'd touched dipping low under his hand as she whirled away. Her shocked, fearful, wide brown eyes met his as she continued to back up, feet moving fast.
He lifted his eyebrows in surprise, raising his hands slowly in the air to show he was no threat. "Hey," he said, as she scrambled to pull an ear bud out. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I just came to let you know I'm getting ready to close up."
She'd been breathing hard through her nose, and at his words, she visibly started to relax, her fists unclenching. He frowned slightly, knowing that her reaction went way beyond merely being startled. She'd actually been scared for a second.
"Yeah, sorry," she breathed, stepping past him and snatching up a towel. "Let me get my stuff together and then I'll get out of your hair."
He averted his eyes as she quickly mopped the sweat off her arms and torso, suddenly aware that she was dressed only in her sports bra and yoga pants, and that she looked amazing. She suddenly seemed self-conscious as though she realized the same, and quickly dropped her T-shirt on over her head. He cleared his throat and took another step back, giving her plenty of space.