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But that was not who I was. That was not what I did.
I was the rock. A fighter. I never yielded.
And I wouldn’t start now.
I shoved away from him. “You better get back to work. Mackenzie goes to arbitration in a few weeks.”
I rushed back to my desk and worked with earbuds in for the rest of the day.
By the time I got home, Kennedy was on her way out.
“Where you going?” I asked, setting my keys on the table by the door.
She looped her purse across her body. “Meeting Jordan.”
“I thought you were taking a break.”
She shrugged, a half smile crawling across her face. “I’m just too lovable.”
I playfully elbowed her. “You coming back tonight?”
Again, that secretive smile. “Maybe.”
Obviously not. “Be safe.”
She waved her hand over her shoulder, and I shut the door behind her before heading to my room to change. Growing up, I’d been a cross-country runner. Being outside with my feet slapping the trail in a constant rhythm was like meditation for me. I still ran, but in the winter, I needed to use a gym treadmill, which wasn’t at all close to the peace I had running miles outside, but I had to take what I could get.
Bundled back up in my parka, I braved the bitter winter wind. Only a few more weeks until the temperature would rise and the sun lingered a little longer in the sky, and I could finally get back to my normal routine. At the gym, I nodded to the girl at the desk, dropped my stuff off in a locker, then made my way to my favorite treadmill in the corner, already sticking my earbuds in. I couldn’t stand the clatter of the gym bros dropping their weights and the chatter of the people on the cardio machines while they talked on the phone. Like, are you working out, or are you gossiping?
But as I nearedmytreadmill, my steps faltered.
Because Dean fucking Hargrove was on it.
I stomped over to him, mashing my fist on the stop button. He stumbled, barely catching himself before he fell off. His blazing eyes found me. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“What the fuck are you doing at my gym? On my treadmill?”
He wiped sweat away from his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt, though it was already soaked through at the neck. With him in his shorts and tee, I couldn’t avoid looking at him. At his veiny forearms, which might as well have been crafted just for me. At the breadth of his shoulders under the cotton. The sprinkle of light hair on his legs.
“So, you own the gym now?”
I cocked my hip, crossing my arms. “I’m here almost every day, and I’ve never once seen you here.”
He shrugged. “I just joined.”
“Why?” I nearly whined. “Can’t you find somewhere else?”
His eyes coasted around the whole of the gym. “From all my stalking, I figured you’d be here.”
My jaw went slack, and he smiled like I was too easy to rile up. Obviously, I was.
“I picked the place closest to my house, Novak. I have better things to do than play detective about where you work out.”
I didn’t call attention to the fact that he sought me out Friday in my car and then forced his way to my appointment and into my apartment.
“Fine.” I stepped up onto the treadmill next to his. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”
He breathed out a miffed sound and started his machine again, peering over at my speed, which was barely a jog, then dialed his to the same rate.
