“I’m going to the gym after breakfast. Do you want to come with me?” she asks, and I’m so startled, I slosh coffee over the lip and onto my hand.
The burn barely registers as I stare at her. “Seriously,” I start, “a root canal, reorganizing my sock drawer, or recounting the horrors of my teen years all sound like more fun than going to the gym. I’d watch every identical rom-com ever made to not go.”
“They are not identical,” she hisses as she turns all the knobs on the stove tooff.
“Yes, they are. We went through forty-seven options of rich city girl inherits her dead relative’s inn and must find the magic of Christmas to save it.” She huffs and I smirk. “But we can argue about that later.”
“Sounds hot. Plus, you can’t forget about the hunky, hometown lumberjack that helps her fall in love again,” she teases and I glare at her. “Oh, come on, working out together will be fun!”
“No, plus you don’t get this body by running,” I say, waving my hand from my chest to my legs like a game show host. “This body is made from Mountain Dew and Doritos.”
“I happen to like your body.”
“How would you know?” I ask, mirroring her pose with my hands on my hips. We’re facing off, and I can tell that she likes getting me all riled up. The problem is I have no idea why I’m even letting her. “You’ve never seen me in anything but this.”
“Do I need to see you naked to know I like the way you feel pressed against me? That our bodies seem to fit together?”
“That isreallyunfair.” Kinsley’s arms wrap around my neck before she presses her body flush against mine, my handsdropping to her waist like it’s the most natural thing I’ve ever done. “So is this.”
“It helps with stamina,” she murmurs, her eyes dropping to my lips. “And I’ll bereallypissed if you’re not strong enough to hold me up against the wall.”
Well, shit.
“I’ll buy some sneakers.”
“You do that.”
Guess I’m going to the gym.
9
KINSLEY
True to his word, Royce acquired a pair of running shoes and came with me to the gym, exactlytwice, grumbling each time like it would get him out of being there.
It hadn’t.
And that was good.
The downside was I’d gotten a handful of messages that I’d turned over to him and one email with a picture of me walking to get a coffee.
He’d cursed—sans the f-word—and poured himself into figuring out how to finally nail Scott to the wall, the time apart allowing me to pre-make content for the next two weeks for my social media accounts.
But also his dedication, while endearing, hadn’t earned me any orgasms.
And that needed to change.
“Roy!” I yell as I knock on his apartment door and wait. It takes him a minute, and it does nothing to dull the ache between my legs.
“What are you—” he asks when he sees me standing there, but I don’t give him the chance to finish his sentence before I’m pushing him back inside.
“Are you busy?” I pant as I wrap my arms around his neck and take his mouth in a bruising kiss. He grunts, his hands moving down to cup my ass.
“I could take a break.”
“A long one?” I ask hopefully.
“Depends what you?—”
