A gym nemesis pushes a fitness influencer to the max in Amy Lea’s steamy debut romantic comedy. Intrigued? Well read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Amy Lea’s Set On You, which is out now!
Curvy fitness influencer Crystal Chen built her career shattering gym stereotypes and mostly ignoring the trolls. After her recent breakup, she has little stamina left for men, instead finding solace in the gym – her place of power and positivity.
Enter firefighter Scott Ritchie, the smug new gym patron who routinely steals her favorite squat rack. Sparks fly as these ultra-competitive foes battle for gym domination. But after a series of escalating jabs, the last thing they expect is to run into each other at their grandparents’ engagement party.
In the lead up to their grandparents’ wedding, Crystal discovers there’s a soft heart under Scott’s muscled exterior. Bonding over family, fitness, and cheesy pick-up lines, she just might have found her swolemate. But when a photo of them goes viral, savage internet trolls put their budding relationship to the ultimate test of strength.
“I know you took my phone. Stop messing with me and give it back now.”
He lets out a half laugh, as if I’m certifiably insane. And maybe I am. But my entire life is on that phone. Photos. Pre-edited business content. Videos. My clients’ workout plans. The worst part: I ran out of iCloud storage months ago and was too lazy to buy more. If I lose this phone, I lose it all.
“You sure you’re not a little confused and exhausted from all those shoulder presses?” he asks, unable to squash his patronizing amusement.
“I don’t get exhausted. Ever. I appreciate the concern, though,” I add, voice sweeter than Grandma Flo’s sugar pie.
“Oh, I could exhaust you.” His eyes blaze and I nearly choke at the innuendo (whether he intended it or not). “In fact, I think you’re already at the end of your rope with me right now.”
“Not even close.”
“It really doesn’t take much to get you all riled up.” His gravelly voice almost distracts me as he inches in front of his open locker.
My eyes dart behind him. It isn’t a coincidence that he shifted his body in front of his open locker like a bodyguard stationed outside a nightclub. He’s holding my phone hostage in there. I’m convinced.
Like a panther focused on its prey, I storm toward him.
We’re face-to-face, chests heaving, connected in yet another face-off. But this time, his chest is bare, and I’m losing the battle to resist ogling him with each passing second.
To distract myself, I search his face far and wide for something to critique. Anything at all. And I come up empty. I hadn’t noticed until now that his pupils are surrounded by soft rings of gold.
The severity of his expression tempers with a slight brow raise. I take it as a sign of weakness. It’s my time to pounce.
I gaze left to fake him out before making a break for his locker. As I stick my hand in, he blocks me with his shoulder. I attempt to push him backward with my forearms, but his body is like a sturdy tree. One of those majestic three-thousand-year-old trees in Yosemite. He doesn’t even budge.
He watches me, mouth twisted in amusement as I step back in a huff. “You’re not getting in my locker,” he says, as if it’s just pure fact, as simple as one plus one equals two. He extends his arm to the side, palm against the locker, blocking me from any future attempt. But I don’t give up that easily.
Fully aware of his strength, I make one last go of it.
He stops me as I lunge toward him, placing his hands square on my shoulders. He turns me swiftly yet gently against the lockers. “Keep trying all you want. I can do this all day.”
The coolness of the metal against my back offsets the warmth of my skin. I desperately try to ignore how he smoothly circles his right thumb over my shoulder. His hooded eyes hold my entire body captive, despite the fact that his grip isn’t all that tight. He’s not holding me here against my will. I could probably leave at any time. In fact, I probably should. But I don’t, and I don’t know why.
Excerpted from Set on You by Amy Lea Copyright © 2022 by Amy Lea. Excerpted by permission of Berkley. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
