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“No it’s not. You’re trying to piss me off.”

He stops goofing around and gives me a lopsided grin. “Only ’cause it’s so easy to rile you when it comes to her.”

“Shut it,” I growl under my breath as Aubrey strolls over.

“Hey, Jake. Did you just get here?” she asks.

“Yeah, good thing. Looks like my brother’s in a mood today.”

She gives me a shy smile that punches me in the gut. “Everything okay?” she asks. “You have been quiet all morning.”

“I’m fine. Jake thinks he’s a comedian.”

Jake slaps me on the back. “I gotta go. Got someone coming in at twelve-thirty.”

After he leaves, Aubrey’s gaze lands on me. “Can I show you something I’d like to order?”

“Sure,” I mumble, still staring at her legs.

She fidgets and my gaze travels up, landing on her nervous face. “You should really wear pants to work,” I blurt.

Her cheeks turn red. “Oh. Uh, I didn’t. It’s so hot out.” The more she stammers, the stupider I feel for opening my big mouth. My inability to control myself isn’t her problem.

“It’s fine.” I nod to the equipment she never touches. “I just don’t want you getting hurt or something.” Never mind clients who actually use the equipment wear whatever the fuck they want.

“Won’t happen again.” She hurries away and pushes the door to the women’s locker room open.

I step into my office, planning to bang my head against the wall a few times. Maybe knock some common sense loose.

Nothing comes to me, so I return to the floor.

Aubrey storms out of the locker room—wearing long, loose black sweats and plants herself behind the front counter.

Good job, asshole.

I better fix this before it goes any further. “You didn’t have to—”

“It’s fine,” she snaps, cutting me off.

“What did you want to show me?”

“Nothing. It’s probably stupid anyway.”

“Aubrey,” I try again.

We’re interrupted by students arriving for my one o’clock class. “Are you going to assist me?” I ask Aubrey.

She won’t even look at me. “You’re the boss. If you want me to, I will.”

One of my regulars, Shayla, slides up next to me and threads her arm through mine. “I’ll let you demonstrate on me.”

“Thanks.” I force a polite smile and untangle myself from Shayla. “I’ll meet you ladies back there in a few minutes.”

“Better make sure you tell Shayla and her buddies about your ‘no shorts in the gym’ policy,” Aubrey mutters without sparing me a glance.

I turn and run my gaze over the women. “I didn’t notice.”

She huffs out a sad laugh and shakes her head.

I’m torn. Tell her the shorts were bothering me because I couldn’t think about anything other than bending her over and yanking them down her legs? Or let her continue to think I don’t find her attractive?

Both options are damn unappealing for different reasons.

I really wish Sully would go away and stop looking at me like I’m an annoying puppy he accidentally kicked.

Of course, that would be easier if I stopped acting like one.

But, damn he knows how to make me feel inadequate.

Finally, he gives up to attend to his trio of tall, leggy blondes. Like hell am I going over there to help out.

Jake saunters my way, leans over and places his elbows on the counter. “Anyone call for me?” he asks.

“Not today.”

He glances at the door. “Damn. This dude usually isn’t late and doesn’t blow off appointments.”

“Sorry. Do you want me to call him?”

“Nah.” He shakes his head and then stops and stares at me. “Why’d you change?”

“Jesus. What is it with you and your brother? You two have some clothing fetish you need to tell me about?”

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” I mutter. “Your brother informed me my shorts weren’t appropriate attire, so I changed.”

Jake cocks his head toward Sully and chuckles. “Did he really?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll cover myself in a sack from now on. I know I don’t look like the Hilton sisters over there, but jeez.”

His eyes widen. “Whoa. Whatever he said, I can guarantee it’s not because he thinks you’re unattractive.”

“Whatever.” I tap at the computer and turn the screen toward Jake. “How is it Strike Back has like zero web presence? This site is pathetic.”

Not offended by the criticism, he shrugs. “He keeps meaning to hire someone to fix up the website. Hasn’t gotten around to it.”

“You guys need something to let people know the place even exists.”

“We get lots of referrals from word of mouth.”

I roll my eyes. “You two act like you’re seventy-year-old men afraid of technology instead of almost-thirty business owners.”

He throws his head back and laughs. “You’re exactly what he needs.”

Heat spreads over my cheeks. “What Strike Back needs,” I correct.

“Yeah, that too.”

CHAPTER TEN

Almost closing time for Strike Back. Also, almost time for me to be at the fight to make my debut as a ring girl.

So why am I parked behind the gym? Far enough not to be spotted right away but with a good view of the back door.

What am I doing?

I don’t have the guts to stroll inside and announce that I’m on my way to do something he expressly asked me not to do. Do I?

Don’t put yourself in danger just to make a point.

That sounds like something Sully would say and I hate that he’s in my head.

Don’t do something stupid just to get even with him for rejecting me.

That one makes me squirm. I glance down at my dress. Short, tight, dark red velvet. My heels are on the seat next to me because I can’t drive with them. The ballet flats currently on my feet are much more comfortable.

Did I stop by with the stupid hope that he’ll talk me out of tonight? Maybe toss me over his shoulder and have his way with me over his desk instead?

If I don’t make up my mind soon, I’m going to be late.

Where does Sully go after work?

Jesus, pretty soon if you flip to nutjob in the dictionary, my picture will be there.

I blow out an exaggerated, heavy sigh. Sitting here reeks of bad decisions. I’ll be too mortified if Sully catches me to give him a piece of my mind. Worse if he tells me not to go, I’ll probably listen to him and I really do need the money.

Before putting the car in drive, I reach into my purse for my makeup bag and my lip balm.

It’s not there.

My memory flashes to my locker.

Shit.

Well, now I have an excuse to go inside.

A flimsy, ridiculously obvious excuse.

I put the car in drive and pull up next to the back door. Just because I’m insane doesn’t mean I want to walk through a dark parking lot in my barely-covers-my-ass dress.

After a few deep breaths, I open the car door and step out. I leave my heels in the car, because, come on, let’s not be completely obvious.

Inside, the lights wink out one by one.

I halt in my tracks.

Should I leave?

When have I ever done what I should do?

I run up to the back door and rap my knuckles against the glass.

It’s so dark, I barely make Sully’s form out as he approaches. I’m standing under a bright light, so I know he sees me.

The door pushes open. “Aubrey? What are you doing here?”

“I’m on my way out, saw the lights were on, and uh, realized I forgot something in my locker. Do I have time to grab it?”

His gaze slowly travels over my body. The tension between us grows as neither of us speaks and he doesn’t move to let me i

n or shut the door in my face.

“Never mind, I’ll grab it another time.”

As I turn to leave, he pushes the door wider. “No, it’s okay. Come in.”

“Thanks.”

He doesn’t move, so I brush past him, ignoring the way my body tingles in all the places we touch.

I hurry down the hallway, my flats whispering over the hardwood floors that gleam in the low light. The locker room door stands wide open with a trashcan keeping it in place. It takes a second to remember why I’m here.

My fingers shake and I mess up the combination three times before the lock finally clicks open.

Reaching in, I grab the small silk makeup bag and check for the gloss I wanted. I mean, if I came all the way in here for it, I might as well make sure it’s here, right?

It is and I take it to the counter with the mirror over it and slick some over my lips.

“Aubrey?”

The tube of gloss clatters to the counter, rolls off the edge, and lands on the floor. I bend over, reaching for it and almost smack into Sully’s knees.

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