As I drive away, I check my rearview mirror to see him still standing in the parking lot, watching me go. This is just business, I remind myself firmly, gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary. Instagram followers and record deals. That’s all this is. That’s all it can be.
CHAPTER 7
JACK
My motorcycle’s engine echoes off the buildings as I pull into the parking lot of Midnight Gym at 7 AM sharp. I can smell salt from the Sound mixing with the trees that border the lot. I cut the engine and swing my leg over the bike, the leather seat still cool from the ride, and grab my gym bag from the storage compartment.
I scan the parking lot, and as much as I’m pretending I’m just taking in my surroundings, I know exactly who I’m looking for. Lark. I’ve been doing this all week, looking for her everywhere I go. We’ve been fake dating for almost two weeks now and have gone on a handful of coffee dates, but I’m starting to look forward to seeing her in a way that has nothing to do with the arrangement. Which is really fucking inconvenient.
The morning crowd is already going strong inside—mostly professionals getting their workouts in before heading to office jobs. The woman at the front desk, Sarah something, waves me through with a friendly smile.
The gym really does look good. Dom’s done an absolutely amazing job with the place since taking over after Dad died.What used to be Dad’s basic boxing gym is now state-of-the-art—high ceilings, exposed brick, some of Dad’s old boxing posters still up, but everything else is upgraded. Top equipment, new flooring, even a physical therapy suite in the back.
I head straight for Dad’s old office, now Dom’s domain. His door is open and he’s sitting at the desk, three computer monitors glowing in front of him, wearing that hyper-focused expression he gets when he’s deep in work mode. Always the workaholic, even at seven in the damn morning.
“Morning,” I call out, leaning casually in the doorway and rapping my knuckles against the frame.
He looks up, startled like I’ve pulled him out of deep focus, then checks his watch with exaggerated surprise. “You’re on time. Again. I’m shocked at this new version of you lately. Who are you and what did you do with my baby brother?”
“Come on now, I’ve always taken training seriously,” I protest. “I wasn’t that bad in my younger years. I showed up. Eventually.”
“My memory of your teenage years is a bit different,” he says, but he’s smiling, that rare Dom smile that softens his usually stern features. “Theo’s already here. Pretty sure he’s set up in the back corner somewhere with the cable machines.”
“You gonna join us today?” I ask, though I already know the answer before the words even leave my mouth.
“Nope. I have a shit ton of administrative work today and a boxing class to teach this afternoon.” His eyes are already drifting back to his computer screen, a clear dismissal. Dominic Midnight, absolute master of the brief interaction and quick exit.
I roll my eyes and head through the main floor, nodding at a few people I vaguely recognize from high school. Some of them do visible double-takes when they register who I am. I’m not usually here this early in the morning, and definitely not with this level of consistency.
The past week I’ve been almost religious about my training schedule, showing up on time, completing every workout Hans sends me. My trainer is both proud and deeply shocked by this development.
Theo’s at the cable machine doing lat pulldowns when I find him. His form is perfect, the weights moving smoothly up and down.
“Look who’s showing up to morning sessions consistently,” he says without breaking his rhythm or even looking at me. “Miraclesdohappen.”
“Very funny,” I say. “You should tell Dom that one, I think you two are working from the same joke book.” I drop my bag against the wall and begin some basic warm-up exercises.
Theo smiles, finishing his set with one final controlled pull. “Dom already give you shit about your punctuality?”
“Oh yeah, first thing. He’s efficient about everything, including roasting his youngest brother.”
“Well, that’s Dom for you.” Theo releases the bar and stands, rolling his shoulders. “I’m impressed though, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you stick to any kind of routine this well. Not that we see you much over the years with you always traveling, but still. This is new.”
“Jack 2.0,” I say. “Zero crazy parties, all dedicated responsibility and focus. Since my contract depends entirely on proving I’m not a complete liability, perception is everything right now.”
I don’t mention that in addition to steady consistent workouts, my fake girlfriend is also helping significantly with this whole perception problem.
“So what sadistic torture did Hans send you today?” Theo grunts, moving to adjust the weight on his machine, adding another heavy plate.
“A mix of HIIT cardio and heavy strength training.” Hans is in Italy but he’s checking in constantly. We’re tight, been working together since I started in Formula One, but I hate him depending on what workout he sends. Which just makes him send harder ones the next day when I complain.
My phone buzzes loudly in my pocket. I glance at it while continuing to roll my shoulders out, working through the tightness.
Lark:For the event this weekend I’m planning to drive myself up to Seattle, just a heads up. I can get off early at the bar, but I’ll still be running a bit late, so I think it makes more sense for me to just meet you there.
Me:Yeah no problem at all. But I can definitely wait for you if you want, I don’t mind hanging around.
Lark:No it’s better this way, I’m guessing you like driving your motorcycle at death-defying speeds.Plus I’d prefer to arrive without looking like I stuck my entire head out of a tornado. Think of what my hair and makeup would look like.
