The furrows in his forehead were so deep Taylor feared he’d end up with permanent frown lines.
“Taylor, are you sure about all of this?” he asked. “I can clear this up with a single text to Alec Mooney.”
“No, it will work. I promise.” She pointed to the envelope. “If we follow the playbook, we can both get what we want. What do you say, Twenty-Three?”
He sat in contemplative silence, studying her. After several strained moments passed, he said, “I guess we’re dating.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jamar refastened the belt on the heat wrap around his knee and flexed the muscle, trying not to wince at the sharp pinch that shot through the joint. He dialed back the flash of worry that immediately sparked, reminding himself that even an uninjured knee would ache after the punishing workout he’d put it through.
He’d left Taylor at her apartment yesterday afternoon after they’d both agreed they were too mentally exhausted to undertake the upper-body workout she’d had planned. But once he’d arrived home, his pent-up adrenaline wouldn’t allow him to rest. He’d changed into sweats and took off for a four-mile run, intending to clear his head. But four miles had turned into ten as he’d mulled over the ramifications of yesterday’s chance meeting with Alec Mooney. How could something seemingly harmless cause his plans to implode in such spectacular fashion?
He thought of the chaos theory he’d learned about in high school, and how the fluttering of a butterfly’s delicate wings in one part of the world could result in cataclysmic consequences in another. That’s what this felt like. If he’d hung around just a few moments longer to chat with Coach Green, or if he’d taken Taylor over to check out some of the equipment, there was a possibility they would have never encountered Mooney. A minor tweak in the course of yesterday’s events and everything would still be on track.
He heard a car door slam and jumped up from the weight bench. His new girlfriend was here for today’s workout.
He dropped his head back and chuckled at the ceiling.
If anyone questioned whether God had a sense of humor, Jamar need only point to the fact that he now had topretendthat he and Taylor Powell were dating. The irony of trying to pull off a fake relationship with a woman he would’ve dated in a heartbeat if circumstances were different wasn’t lost on him.
The more he thought about it, the more Jamar was convinced this was his best friend having a good laugh at his expense. Silas had been the king of practical jokes.
He arrived at the front door just as Taylor ascended the top step.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said, breezing past him on her way into the house. “There was a huge piece of farm equipment being carried by a flatbed truck on the interstate. It took up two lanes and had traffic backed up to the Forty-Five on-ramp.” She held up two red reusable shopping bags. “I was too keyed up after everything that happened yesterday, so I spent half the night cooking your meals.”
“Oh, cool. What did you make?”
“This is grilled chicken with brown rice and sautéed root veggies,” she said, holding up a container. “I also have flank steak with a mushroom and spinach tart. It is divine.” She cradled the other bag. “And in here are black bean quesadillas and chickpea burgers.”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “I’ll eat the chicken and steak, but not that other stuff.”
She peered at him over her shoulder as she unloaded plastic meal-prep containers from one of the bags. “Seriously, how did you get a body like that without eating vegetables?”
Jamar arched a brow. “You’ve been checking out my body?”
“Uh, give your ego a Xanax. I’m your trainer; it’s my job to check out your body.”
And just like that, his ego was now the size of the speck of dust he found on the marble countertop. He swiped at it with his thumb.
“I’m serious about those burgers and quesadillas,” Jamar said. “You can take those back with you because they’ll just go to waste here.”
She plopped a hand on her hip, that sassy-ass attitude on full blast. “Okay, both of these are freaking delicious. They are, by far, my most popular dishes. But do you want to know what tastes even better than those amazing quesadillas? Revenge.” She dragged out the word. “Now, how bad do you want it?”
Jamar cursed under his breath. “Fine, I’ll eat the chickpeas.”
“You will also eat crow when you’re forced to admit how much you like them,” she said. If she were anyone else, he would have found her triumphant grin irritating. On Taylor, it was charming.
She picked up four of the eight containers and carried them to the refrigerator. Jamar snatched up the remaining ones and brought them to her.
“Thanks,” she said, taking them from him and storing them along with the others. “By the way, I’m going to need you to change out of those clothes.”
He looked down at his compression leggings/shorts combo and muscle tank, his typical workout gear. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”
“We’re not working out today. At least not yet.”
“What? Why not?”
