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“Why are you dressed like that?”

I look down at my outfit. “What’s wrong with it?”

He looks over at the two men beside him who are staring at me. They look at him, then immediately look away.

“Resting murder face won’t win you any friends.”

“I’m not here to make friends.”

“Clearly.”

“Why are you here?”

I gesture at my outfit. “To work out.”

“I don’t believe that.”

I shrug. “Sounds like a you problem.”

His nostrils flare. I’m surprised he’s not shooting fire from them.

“Fine. I’ll get on the treadmill so I don’t distract you.” I give him a big smile and flutter my fingers at him before giving him my back. I add a swing to my hips, feeling his eyes boring into my ass.

When I step onto the treadmill directly behind him, he’s still staring. I blow him a kiss, then start the machine.

He mutters something I can’t hear. Probably more curses.

I grin.

He closes his eyes, his jaw working, then lies back down on the bench and starts doing chest presses.

Mmm. This is the best view I’ve ever had.

He does two sets, then puts the weights back. His gaze locks onto me, his jaw flexing as he comes closer.

I shiver. Not from fear. From desire.

I should probably be scared of him. Pretty sure he really is a hitman.

But I’m not scared.

Something about him makes me feel safe.

He puts his big hands on the display. But his whiskey eyes don’t leave mine. “You need to stop following me.”

“Wow.” I shake my head. “Bold statement.”

“You’re only here because of me.”

“Really?” My brows fly up. “How was I to know you’d be here?”

“You followed me.”

I laugh. “Wow. Now you’re accusing me of stalking?”

“Aren’t you?”

I stare at him defiantly. “I could say the same thing about you, James.”