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She brightens. “Good!”
“Ignoring him very pointedly,” I go on. “I don’t want him missing that. It’s very important he knows I’m not paying attention to him.”
Her eyes narrow. “That sounds suspicious. What did you want my help with, then?”
“Well, it’s not always easy to ignore someone on your own, you know?” I’m practically bouncing on my bike with excitement now. “It’s easier when there’s someone with you to ignore him with. If you see what I mean.”
“God, no. Don’t tell me…?” She scans the space filled with machines and sweaty people. “He’s here, isn’t he?”
“Not yet. He’s about to arrive.”
“You know his schedule?”
“Sure. It’s easy. He’s like clockwork, always on time.”
“And you have his whole work and free-time schedule handy, huh?”
“Yes.”
Not to brag, but I’ve done my homework. I know everything about him. Well, as much as his presence on social media, his resume and office gossip coughed up.
It will have to do.
Right on time, the automatic doors of the gym open and close, admitting a tall, broad-shouldered hunk, his hair shining gold in the fluorescent overhead lamps.
I straighten on my bike. “Target in sight,” I hiss at Candy. “Three o’clock.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He’s here.”
“Oh God.” She doesn’t sound excited. More like… resigned.
Strange.
“Let him change and choose a machine, and then we make our move.”
“What move?” Candy mutters, mouth a tight line.
“You’ll see.”
***
“Slow down. Here is a good spot.”
“Here?” Candy can’t quite manage stage-whispering, and I wince.
“Yes.”
We’re a few feet away from Ryan’s machine, where he’s lifting weights, muscles rolling and shifting in his chest and arms, his skin gleaming with sweat. A drop is rolling down his temple, over his corded neck, into—
“Bry.”
“Huh?”
“Concentrate. What the hell are we doing?”
I hand her the bottle of Sprite I grabbed from the vending machine earlier. “Open it.”
