Page 116 of Hearts Storm

“Brex.” Logan’s voice is a warning growl.

“Fine,” I mutter.

Tearing my gaze away, I shove my AirPods in my ears and try to focus. But no matter how hard I try, half my mind stays with the pretty vision behind the glass.

Forty-five minutes later, we’re sweating it out on the treadmill when Logan waves a hand to get my attention.

I remove an ear bud. “What?”

“Class is letting out,” he tells me with a jerk of his chin.

My head snaps around. Sure enough, women are filing out of the studio, gym bags slung over their shoulders, chatting and laughing as they make their way toward the exit. I watch as Reyna gathers her things, slinging her duffel over her shoulder as she makes her way to the door.

“Shit. Here she comes. Act natural.”

“Act natural?” I laugh, raising the incline. “Who the fuck are you right now?”

“Shut up and run,” Logan grumbles.

“Jesus, you’re a bossy fucker today.”

Logan just scowls.

Upping the speed, I start jogging, keeping my eyes fixed on the digital display. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Reyna as she slips through the door to the gym. Cheeks flushed, her skin glistens with sweat, a few damp strands clinging to her neck.

A small smile plays at the corners of her mouth when she spots us and makes her way over.

“What are you two up to?” she asks with a tilt of her head.

Her sports bra leaves little to the imagination. All it’s doing is squishing her tits up with every rise and fall of each breath, and I have to force myself to keep my eyes on her gorgeous face.

Logan slows his treadmill down to a walk, hits stop, and turns to face her. “We need to talk.”

The smile on her face falters. “Okay.” She tucks a damp strand of hair behind her ear. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” I hurry to say. “We just⁠—”

“We’re coming over to your place tonight,” Logan cuts in, the edge in his voice making me want to elbow him in the ribs. “There are some things we need to discuss.”

Reyna’s frown deepens.

I give him a look that says, ‘Take the broody down a notch.’ The last thing we need is for her to think we’re about to drop a bomb on her.

“If that’s cool,” I add, keeping my tone light. “Nothing bad. Promise.”

She studies us for a long moment, her eyes bouncing between Logan’s stoic face and my attempt at a charming grin. The tension in her body eases just a fraction, but there’s still a wariness there.

“You could,” she says slowly, adjusting the strap of her bag. “But I’m not going to be there.”

Logan’s brows furrow. “Why not?”

“Because it’s girls’ night.”

I narrow my eyes at my best friend. ‘Don’t be a dick and mess this up for us.’

He huffs out a breath. “Okay. How ’bout tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night will work.” Reyna’s lips twitch. “What time?”