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I sit on that for a second, shrugging at the appealing thought of Cedric gone for good.
Greg would too. As a former linebacker himself, the old man still stands tall with shoulders that can roll boulders. But now, years after his debilitating injury, he's as soft as a teddy bear. He runs his own private gym with a staff of physical therapists who specialize in sports medicine and spends his free time cooking for his wife and her friends while he hosts parties selling kitchen utensils. An animal, he is.
“No, I can handle Cedric. And to be honest, he’s never technically crossed a line,” I offer with a shrug.
He gives me a disapproving scowl.
“Just breathed heavily on it,” I grumble, wrinkling my nose.
Greg’s eyes narrow further.
“Just please, please put Jaden on Lake,” I whine, bouncing my knee in the chair. “I'll buy you that new pocket-sized adjustable cheese grater you've been eyeing!” I bat my lashes, not above using bribery tactics.
“Nice try, Dyl.” He scoffs, leaning back in his squeaky seat behind the old metal desk. “I already own that.”
Of course he does.
I hang my head before peering across the gym again, worried he might already be here. Instead, I see Jaden walk in, heading towards us.
Perfect timing.
He drops his bags in the staff room next to Greg's office, and I admire his physique. He's toned, on the skinnier side, but he's tall and lengthy. He's every woman's dream, and every man's too. It's lucky for everyone he swings both ways. Whichever way the wind blows that day, as he says. I'm just happy to have him as a coworker and friend. We get along great, and he has a sense of humor, making work something I can look forward to and enjoy.
His dark caramel skin glows beneath the fluorescent lights, and I hate that he gets to look good at work in his designer gym fits. I have to resort to wearing baggy sweats with the hope that Cedric doesn't slip into cardiac arrest while we're stretching. He notices my curvy frame more than I'd like, even under the bulky material I'm hiding beneath.
“Jaden, my man. How are you?” I ask with more pep than I intended, popping onto the bench beside him.
I’m obvious. So fucking obvious.
He hangs his sweatshirt on the coat hanger behind me, his brows dropping as a little smirk pulls at the corner of his pouty lips. “What is it that hastheDylan Crawford needing a favor this time?” He leans back against the locker, crossing his arms over his chest with a smug look about him, just knowing I'm in a sticky situation and loving it entirely. Dude reads me like a book.
“Lake Decker. Please, for the love of all things Pampered Chef, tell me you'll take him on.”
His brows lower. “Lake Decker? As in the top rookie running back in the NFL?”
“Former.” I wince. “ACL.”
“Ah, fuck...really? Shit, I don't keep up with football. NBA is my jam.”
“Take him?” I give him my best puppy dog eyes, fluttering my lashes until they nearly fall off my face.
“Yeah, I'll take him.” He nods, pulling his shoes out of the locker.
“Really?” My tone drops and I stare at him, making sure he’s not just messing with me.
He shrugs. “Sure.”
“Oh my God!” I wrap my arms around him, making him drop a shoe. “You're amazing, Jaden. I totally owe you for this.”
He smiles at the embrace, his arms circling my lower back before he scowls down at me.
“Wait.” He pulls back, separating us a few inches. “Why are you so desperate to pawn this guy off? What am I missing?”
I wrinkle my nose, twisting my mouth as the front doorbell rings with the knowledge of the hell unfolding.
Tenminuteslater,Jadenbarges back into the staff room. He grabs the towel off his shoulder, aggressively throwing it into the empty locker beside his.
“Fuck this shit,” he says, grabbing his gym bag off of the hook abruptly, packing his sweatshirt and protein powder into it.
