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It’s a peculiar little envelope. The base color is an off white, and there’s a lace pattern embossed into the paper. I quickly flip it over and peel the adhesive away.
I’d believe it was a mystery, but considering my history with strange, unmarked envelopes…I can take a fucking guess.
Inside, I find a small, hand-written letter from none other than Evian Sprague, my former bitch of a boss at Gilded Lily.
These fucking bullying tactics are getting really old. All of her letters say the same thing in different words. As usual, she’s upset that I bounced back from being at the bottom when I got fired.
Also enclosed with the letter is a photoshopped picture of me. The selfie I posted yesterday, at that. I’m painted up to be over three hundred pounds again, and with a chocolate sauce mustache to boot.
I wonder if she could be any more passive-aggressive and any less original. I roll my eyes as I toss her little love note into the trash with the rest of the junk.
I give Lucy a short scratch under her chin before heading out the door. I lock the deadbolt on my way out, and head down the stairs, which is a much easier task tonight than it was yesterday. Phew.
I start to feel my stomach churning as I get to my car. With everything that happened yesterday, I should be nervous right now.
But I’m not. I have butterflies because I’m so fucking excited to be at the gym with Chase and Eric again.
I didn’t exchange numbers with either of them, so I’ve had no communication at all since I left Power Plus. Flashes of our shower roll through my head as I’m driving up to the building.
God, I’m not even at the gym yet, and I’m already sweating.
As I get out of my car, I grab my gym bag and make my way through the doors.
With each step, I notice I’m more and more slippery fucking wet between the legs just waiting to see the two of them.
I need to get it together.
These guys are hot. They’re uninhibited. They’ve got the muscles of a Greek sculpture and they’re hardly fucking shy about showing them off.
They probably fuck women in that shower together all the fucking time. I need to stop being so fucking obsessed over them—especially since I don’t even know what this is yet.
I feel like Pavlov’s dog, only instead of food and a bell, as soon as I enter the gym, I’m pooling in my panties. I’m not complaining whatsoever; it’s one hell of a motivator, if nothing else.
In my line of vision as soon as I walk in are Chase and Eric. I see Chase flash me an eager, sexy smile.
…mmm. That grin could hypnotize me into doing anything and everything for him. It’s fucking dangerous, a smile like that.
“Well well well,” Chase speaks up. “Look who made it in today.”
“Couldn’t stay away,” I respond. “I’m a gym addict now.”
“I wasn’t actually expecting to see you. Neither of us were, really,” continues Chase. “We gave you a run for your money yesterday. I wouldn’t have been surprised if you decided to stay home on the couch and ice those pretty thighs of yours.”
“My thighs aren’t all that needy of ice after all,” I tease. “Somehow, I’m not surprised to see you here, though. I have it in my head that you two just don’t ever leave.”
“You’re not exactly wrong.”
He’s looking even fucking hotter today. His hair is pushed back, with just the perfect amount of sweat beading across his forehead.
“Well then, I guess I always know where I can find you,” I playfully respond, in the subtlest sultry voice I can manifest.
I can see in the green of his eyes that he’s excited to see me again. I might be his Pavlov, because he’s salivating enough to have to swallow multiple times in our brief exchange.
He swallows again before he says something undoubtedly clever and charming back to me, but before he can, I feel big, strong hands at my waist.
Eric comes up behind me and lifts me right off the ground, effortlessly moving me out of the way. I yelp, and he quickly places me back to the floor, facing him.
“Hey there, beautiful,” he says, greeting me.
