“No problem. Do you have a piece of paper?”
Miriam looked around her desk. In her rush, she almost knocked over the paperweight that held all of her pens and writing utensils.
“Shoot, excuse me,” she said before rising from her seat and handing Lena a blank page from her notebook and a pen.
Lena quickly signed it and handed it back to Miriam.
“If I see that on sale anywhere, I’m coming for you,” I said to Miriam.
She laughed, but when my frown deepened, she straightened her face. “Yes, Mr. Townsend.”
“Leave her alone,” Lena chided, pressing her hand to my abdomen. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
“Hold my calls for the next ninety minutes,” I instructed before leading Lena out of the main office doors to the stairs.
“What happened to the office tour?”
“It’s still happening,” I assured. “I want to show you the gym first. And I needed to do this.” I pulled her into my embrace and brought our lips to kiss.
An insane yearning came dangerously close to overwhelming me. Only our location stopped me from stripping her and taking her against the damn wall, like a madman.
“Lunch isn’t the only thing you’re hungry for,” she said when the kiss ended.
“Damn straight.”
She pursed her lips. “We should talk about that.”
“About what?” I asked.
“Um, us.”
I didn’t like the way she said the wordus. “We’ll do it over lunch. Let me show you around first.”
I led us down to the gym, where about ten athletes were training with the head coach. He waved at me, which I returned with a head nod.
“Should we be down here, watching them like this?” Lena asked, whispering.
Glancing down at her, I smirked. “Why shouldn’t we be?”
“Don’t you fighters like to train in secrecy and whatnot? I think I heard it on one of those YouTube videos about MMA fighters I watched.”
“You were researching my sport?” I found the thought amusing. Especially considering I spent more time than I cared to admit researching Lena’s career and watching old performances. It all gave me a small glimpse into the woman she was. But I preferred learning about her up close and personal.
And the more I did, the more I wanted her.
“It’s an interesting sport,” she said, lying her ass off. I could tell by the way she avoided looking me in the eye that she’d been looking me up.
I squeezed her hand in mine. “They’re not worried about their moves getting out. Especially since I manage a few of the guys here. The rest of them all want a shot at making it on our roster of athletes.”
She nodded and looked around, her eyes pausing on the sizeable, octagonal cage at the far corner of the gym.
“He looks familiar,” she said, peering into the cage.
Eli Gatlin was inside with another one of the coaches, practicing his sparring.
“He should,” I said. “You’ve met him before.”
