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Patroclus…and Helen.

She’s on her back on the mat taking up one corner of the room, one long leg stretched up over Patroclus’s shoulder. He’s on his knees, pressing her leg down toward her chest. Rationally, I realize it’s a hamstring stretch and that they have all their clothes in place, but my brain sees the position and says fucking. Especially when he shifts forward and presses her leg another inch lower. They’re close enough to kiss, and even from here I recognize the flush of his skin.

He’s turned on. Really, really turned on.

Fury rises. I told them to stay away from each other, and it took all of ten minutes for her to have him on the floor, hot and bothered. Fuck, he knows better, too. Does no one listen to me when I talk? I clench my fists, fighting against the instinctive desire to stalk over there and rip him off her.

A snort has me looking at the Minotaur. He arches a scarred brow. “She’s moving fast with that one.”

I was just thinking the same thing, but that doesn’t mean I like other people noticing. “Shut the fuck up.”

He gives that snort again and leans back, easily picking up the bar and beginning to press it to his chest and up again. I watch for several repetitions before I turn back to Patroclus and Helen. She’s switched legs, and it irritates me further that neither of them even noticed me standing here. That spurs me into motion, the possessive ugly thing inside me taking control. I stop a foot from them and snarl. “Get up.”

Patroclus startles, which pisses me off more. He’s damn near impossible to sneak up on because he’s always thinking ten steps ahead, and yet he’s so focused on this woman that it put his big brain on hold. He sits back and shifts his hips as if I can’t tell that he’s got a raging boner. I glare at him and then turn my attention to her. “Up.”

Helen looks good. Damn it, I hate that she looks good. She’s got on a pair of pants and a sports bra that cling to her sweaty skin, showing off her toned stomach and nice tits. She sits up slowly, her expression pure challenge. “He was helping me stretch.”

“I can see exactly what he was doing.” It would be bad enough to have been the one to catch them, but with the Minotaur watching, judging, fucking laughing, I can’t get ahold of my anger. “You.” I point at Patroclus. “Get your head on straight.”

“Achilles—”

I ignore the exasperation in his tone and turn to Helen. “And you. Back to your fucking room, princess.”

“Funny thing, that.” She pushes to her feet, and I fucking loathe the way Patroclus watches her as if he’s going to jump in and catch her if she stumbles. The Minotaur is right; she’s working fast, and she’s working on my man. Helen stretches her arms over her head, pure challenge in those amber eyes. “You’re not the boss of me.”

“Helen.” Now Patroclus turns that exasperation in her direction, which is another indicator of how close they’ve gotten in such a short time. He might be soft, but he’s very careful about who he extends his circle of protection to because of it. It usually takes ages for him to warm up to a new person. How the fuck did she manage it in just a few days? It can’t be because she knew him before I did. It can’t.

“I might not be the boss of you right now, but I’m going to be your husband, and you will stop acting like a spoiled little brat.”

Patroclus sucks in a breath, and Helen’s spine goes ramrod straight. “Say that again,” she snarls.

I don’t bother. Instead I grab her and toss her over my shoulder. Patroclus starts to move forward, but I hold up a hand. “I don’t want to hear shit from you right now. Do your workout. We’ll talk later.” I don’t give him a chance to respond. I just turn and haul a cursing Helen out of the gym and through the halls. After the briefest hesitation, I go through my door instead of hers.

I barely have a chance to set her on her feet before she swings on me. I dodge back, easily catching her fist. “Sloppy.”

“I’ll show you sloppy, you asshole.” She aims a kick for my balls, and I turn my hips. The impact hits my thigh and she’s put enough strength behind it to stagger me. She’s quick, too, dancing back a step and snapping another kick at my face.

I catch her ankle and yank her off her feet, following her to the floor when she immediately tries to jump back up. She’s scrappy; I’ll give her that. She manages to elbow me in the face before I wrestle her to the floor and pin her wrists on either side of her head. “That’s enough.”

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