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“They’ve written me up a weights programme and recommended some classes, including a pilates one that I’m dreading. It starts next Tuesday, so I have almost a week to psych myself up for that one.”

“I was surprised when you said you were going back to the gym. I thought you were done with that place.”

“Yeah, I was. But I got caught at the shopping centre the other day at one of those bloody stands where they talk you into all kinds of shit. I signed up for three months. I was proud of myself for resisting the guy’s charms when he tried to convince me that I was made for a year’s membership. I mean, do I fucking look like I’m made for twelve months of horror?”

“You know those agreements have a cooling off period? You can get out of it if you want.”

“Yeah, I know.” I fell silent for a moment before admitting the truth to her. It was a truth I struggled with, because honestly, I would have preferred to be completely confident in my body, but I wasn’t. “I think I actually want to do this, though. I act like I don’t care about my curves, and mostly I do love them, but there’s this tiny part of me that secretly wants to know what it’s like to be your shape. I want to know how it feels to be able to walk into any clothes shop and choose a sexy dress knowing it will definitely fit me. And then to wear that dress out and receive the kind of attention you do when you enter a room.”

Her face softened. “Oh, babe, you do realise that you attract a lot of attention, right? And when I say a lot, I mean a fuckload. I see guys ogling you from miles away.”

A wolf whistle and then a lot of cheering from a group of guys cut through the noise of the pub, breaking up our conversation. Turning, I saw a guy down on one knee making what looked like a marriage proposal to his girlfriend. When they quietened down, Tatum said, “Okay, I don’t have to work tomorrow, so I’m gonna have a few drinks. You in?”

“Fuck yes!” I pulled out my phone. “I’ll text Fox. He can open up at work for me tomorrow so I can go in late.”

“Perfect.”

It was just what we needed. Between our hectic schedules lately, we hadn’t managed Friday drinks together in weeks. And I needed my drinks with Tatum to keep my sanity. Well, the drinks were optional, but she was the keeper of my sanity. I wasn’t sure what I would do without her in my life.

Chapter 7

Hyde

I watched from where my bike was

parked on the other side of the street as the redhead stumbled down the path to her front door. She was clearly drunk, which meant she was of no use to me tonight.

I’d arrived back in Sydney an hour earlier, and King had given me instructions to come here and get as much information out of her as possible about the guy she worked with and who he bought his drugs from. She’d just arrived home in a cab, thank fuck. I’d started to think she was out for the entire night. King was on the warpath trying to figure out who was behind Jacko’s death, and for some reason, he thought she would have information that’d help us.

Monroe—the redhead—tripped just as she almost made it to her front door. It wasn’t a surprise. The heels she wore were so fucking high I wasn’t sure how she even managed to stand in them, let alone walk in them.

“Fuck,” I muttered when she landed on her ass. Moving off my bike, I crossed the street and jogged to where she sat.

“Why the fuck do women insist on wearing heels like that?”

Her back was to me when I asked my question. She swiftly turned her upper body to look at me. “Jesus, do you always sneak up on women near midnight?” I didn’t miss the panic in her eyes before she realised it was me. Couldn’t blame her—it was fucking late. I’d tried to talk King into putting this visit off until the morning, but he’d been forceful in his desire to see it done tonight. I guessed the fact she’d met me once helped ease some of her concern.

“Can’t say it’s on my regular list of jobs, no.” I watched as her eyes traced every inch of my body. Monroe appeared to be a woman who wasn’t afraid to show her healthy appreciation for men. I crouched next to her. “See anything you like?”

My question didn’t even come close to interrupting her appraisal. She continued to silently check me out before slowly bringing her eyes back up to meet mine. A smile danced across her lips. “How tall are you?”

My lips twitched with amusement. She was fucking drunk. And that was the strangest fucking question I’d ever been asked by a woman. “Six foot five.”

The lazy smile on her face grew into the kind of smile that could knock a man on his ass. “Well look at that,” she murmured, making absolutely no sense to me.

“Look at what?”

“A man who is taller than me. I vaguely remember that about you, but I wasn’t sure if my memory was right.”

She moved in an effort to stand, but her drunken state didn’t allow that to go too smoothly. She’d almost made it off her knees when she started to go down again. I reached for her and helped her up. By the time we were both standing, my hands were firmly around her waist and her tits were pressed up against my chest.

Her face lit up and she hit me with that dazzling smile again. “I’d say it’s a good thing you dropped by unannounced so late. Otherwise I would have probably had to sleep out here tonight.”

I jerked my chin at the door. “How about you unlock that door so I can get you inside before you pass out.”

“Oh good lord, not only are you tall, but you’re helpful, too. It’s not often a girl can tick two items off her list in such a short space of time.”

I let her go so she could turn and take the last few steps to the door, but made sure to keep my hands close in case she fell again. “What list are we ticking items off?” I’d expected to cop an earful for waking her when I arrived at her place, not this.

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