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Chapter Eight
Work It Off
Royce
Ientermyhotelroom, close the door and lean against the cool surface, my mind full of thoughts about the last couple of hours.
Sin cooked a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, and sourdough toast, then kicked me out at eight in the morning, saying she had things to do. It was on the tip of my tongue, hell, almost out of my mouth, to question her on “what things” and “with whom.”
I resisted. It’s none of my business.
Just like the texts she sent and received on her phone. She’d smiled and even chuckled at one point. It was too much. Curiosity burned me from the inside out. I’d slunk to the bathroom before I demanded to know just what was so damn funny…
Fuck!
I push away from the door and head to the window. I take in the view of the Capitol, hoping it will cheer me up. The sun is shining, the sky’s the best shade of blue, and a pleasant breeze is blowing.
The day is perfect, and I’ve no one to share it with. I’d left in such a hurry; I didn’t get the code to Sin’s apartment or make concrete plans for later.
At the thought of not seeing her for the rest of the weekend, a hollow feeling starts in the pit of my stomach and travels up to my heart, leaving a dull ache.
I can’t do this.
Feel like this.
Missing Sin like I haven’t missed anyone or anything since… well, her.
I need to focus. Concentrate on the future…
That yawns before me like a bottomless pit.
It’s not as if I won’t enjoy being married to Tiffany. She makes me laugh just as much as Sin does. I’ll also have the CEO position and everything that entails. Wealth. Power. The ears of dignitaries.
I’ll also have… no tinkling laughter. No secret smiles. Not being able to see Sin’s weird hairdos, like the one she’d created this morning.
Sin had parted her thick hair down the middle with two braids on each side of her head and a loop of hair made into bangs.
I said she looked like a futuristic Dutch milkmaid.
She snorted as she closed her front door in my face.
I stood on her stoop, listening to that delightful sound, until a senior woman with three hundred empty shopping bags in her gnarled hands rounded the corner, staring at me until I left.
I shut my eyes, willing the image of Sin, the smell of her still on my clothes, to go away. When I open them, the walls of the hotel room close in on me, making my breath hitch. Even the scenic view and the welcoming weather are no longer pleasant.
Going for a workout is my only option. At the gym, I can clear my mind, concentrating solely on the reps and sets I need to get through.
But if I had a choice, I’d rather spend the day with Sin.
My mind interjects, spelling out the truth,Get over it. Don’t break your own rules.
Too right.
With a curse, I head to my bedroom and change into my gear.
Shane waves from his office as I walk in. He has his phone plastered to his ear, and as he talks, he makes small swivels in his desk chair. I wave back and keep on walking further into the gym.
The place isn’t that busy on a Saturday as it is during the week. I’m thinking those that skipped their workout today must have the right of it, as I start to sweat even before I lift my first weight. The air in here has to be twenty degrees warmer, even with all the doors and windows open.
