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The main door slams closed. Warm air from outside hits me a second later. Floral. Feminine.Familiar. My nostrils flare, my rhythm faltering. I sniff. Straighten. Drop the ropes.
“You said you owed me a workout, girl, and this is where I work out.”
I crack my neck to the side before I turn, my gut tight. Rae. And where there’s a Rae, there’s normally a—
“I meant a run. I owe you a run. This place smells like a gym bag.”
—Kenzi.
Blue eyes catch mine when I glance over my shoulder. I lift my chin. She blinks her stare away and turns back to Rae. Black running shorts and a pink sports bra that matches her trainers. Fresh, clean, perfect. Completely out of place here.
“Look, there’s Mylo. Hey.” The way Rae’s odd little accent wraps my name almost drags a chuckle from me. In an oversized T-shirt that covers the shorts I assume she’s wearing she waves my way and shoots a much less enthusiasticalright?to Jackson.
I side-eye Jackson. He’s not exactly all smiles in her directions either.
His gaze moves over her. “Forget your pants this morning, Rae?”
“Eyes always on my ass, Sarge. Don’t think I don’t know you tailed me home from Rivers last night?” She clicks her tongue, the challenge in her stare unmissable. “What would your fan club say?”
Jackson’s jaw ticks. “Just doing my job.”
I glance between them. “What’s Rivers?”
Jackson finally releases a long sigh. “Not what, where. Rivers is a dive bar on the other side of the island. Long story.” Stand-off over, his face smooths back to easygoing and he shifts his attention to Kenzi. “You find what you were looking for the other night, Zi?”
Apparently unbothered by whatever just went down between her friends Kenzi nods her head, eyes sparkling, lips pressed together like she’s trying to stop it from splitting with a grin. “Yes, I did. Thank you.”
It’s hard to look away—hard to remember why I’m supposed to look away. She’s stunning when she’s scowling, but, fuck, when she smiles like that… Her face sobers the second she notices I’m still watching her.
“Time for a quick one?” Jackson slaps a pair of boxing gloves into my chest, dragging my attention back to him.
I should have known better. Sparring with someone as good as Jackson when you’re not concentrating is never a good idea. His gloved first clocks me in the jaw for the second time in ten minutes. A jab that should have been easily blocked. I shake it off and lift my fists in front of my face, my attention split between him andthem.
It took Eyebrows less than five minutes to saunter over to her.
Jackson’s fist connects with my ribs. “Head in the game. My mom could take you at this rate and she’s a fucking pacifist.” He laughs and hops from foot to foot, fists up.
I grunt and jab a couple of times. I get his chin. A good connect with his gut. We dance in circles. Bob and weave. Block and attack.
A feminine giggle has me slowing, lowering my gloves. Jackson socks me right in the eye this time.
I barely register it. Eyebrows is making her laugh.
He’s spotting her on the weight bench. Standing by her head, talking down to her as she bench-presses a surprisingly loaded bar. Her abs flex with every upward push, small but well-defined biceps firing with the effort. Her form is perfect. Even when she’s distracted. And she is.
Jackson connects two more punches to my side before he straightens and spits out his mouthguard. “It’s no fun if you don’t fight back, bud.”
She laughs again before I can respond.
My teeth grind. Eyebrows drops to a squat to whisper something in her ear.
Jackson pulls a glove off with his teeth, the other with his free hand as he comes to stand beside me. “Daz. Fuck. I thought they were long finished.”
“She was with that?” My lip pulls back from my teeth, but I can’t drag my stare from the blatant pick up going down.
“For a couple of months last summer, I think. Zi’s great, man, but she’s not exactly known for her stellar taste in men.”
I ignore him and glance over to where Rae is working the box-sack like a pro. They came here together. Why aren’t they working out together? The small, round ballon-like punch bag practically vibrates with the fast rhythm of her fists. One two, one two. The girl may be tiny, but she’s got definite skills beneath all that orange hair. Still, she should be with Kenzi. I flick my gaze between them, willing her to stop what she’s doing and step in, because I sure as hell have no right to.
