"Well enough to know that she's here almost every Monday, Wednesday and Friday at four o'clock." She taps the plastic strapped watch on her wrist. "Lucky for you, she's mid workout at this very minute."
"Brynn."
Her entire body stiffens when she hears her name coming from my mouth. She's standing next to the same treadmill she was on when I first saw her here days ago. Her back is to me, but I can guarantee that the look on her face is priceless.
There are at least ten seconds of silence before she responds. She doesn't turn to look at me but her words are loud and clear. "Leave me alone, Smith."
I rake her body. Today she's dressed in a pink tank top and black yoga shorts. She's everything I remember, right down to the small tattoo above her left elbow. One simple word encased in a heart. It's a word that means everything to her; family.
"Turn around." I reach forward to touch her but stop myself because if I feel her skin, I won't be able to control what happens next.
That's a lie. I never take what isn't offered willingly to me. I know she still wants me though. I see it in her labored breaths.
Her shoulders slump forward. "I'm about to do thirty minutes on this treadmill. I don't have time for you today."
"I'm not asking for eternity here." I step closer to her. "I'm asking for two minutes to clear the air."
She spins around and looks at me like I'm the clown from her tenth birthday party. Confusion, anger and curiosity are all layered in her expression. Her eyes land on the black tank top I'm wearing before they skim over my bare arms. They're impressive. I know it. Petal knows it too. The sudden blush washing over her cheeks tells me she likes what she sees.
"Two minutes?" Her index and middle finger jut into the air. "Two? You're fucking joking. Tell me you're fucking joking."
I've never heard that word come from her lips. My dick hardens instantly and I move the towel in my hand to cover up. A stiff cock isn't going to help me in this situation.
That's a statement I never expected would cross my mind.
"I'm serious." I widen my stance and raise a brow like I'm all kinds of right and she's wrong. She is. My only crime is that I didn't kiss her years ago. It's not like I ruined her life.
"You're an asshole."
There's a fire in her that I don't remember. This isn't the Petal I rejected. This woman is different, bolder. Apparently, when I dodged her kiss, I left a mark on her heart. It makes me want her even more.
I lose the towel and step closer, not caring that my cock has pitched a massive tent in my gym shorts.
Her eyes drop. "What are you doing?"
I rest a finger on her chin, tilting her face up to me. "I'm going to right my wrong. I was an idiot back then. I should have done this all those years ago."
I lean down, eager to kiss her mouth. Her eyes widen as her lips part. "Smith, are you going to kiss…"
"What the hell, Smith?" A sharp toned female voice interrupts the moment from behind me. I feel a hand on my shoulder, nails digging into my skin. "You fucked me two days ago. Did I mean absolutely nothing to you?"
Obviously, since I told her as much before I screwed her, both times. I wanted a hook-up, she seemed into it. Apparently, I read that wrong.
Brynn backs away, her gaze glued to the hand on my shoulder.
"Answer me, Smith." The woman behind me pushes against my back.
I turn and face her, reaching to grab both her wrists as she moves to punch my chest. "Caprice, stop. Just stop."
"Stop?" She literally screams the word in my face. "You never answered the text I sent you the other night. I've been waiting to hear from you. I can't believe you were going to kiss her when you and I have a thing going on."
The only thing we have going on is we're currently the center of attention in this gym. All eyes and several phones are on us. In my business, that's publicity I don't want. I have a public image to uphold, along with a paragraph in my contract that states I need to keep my shit together, so I don't embarrass the show or the network.
"Let's discuss this calmly, Caprice." I lower my voice. "Give me a few minutes to clean up and we'll talk at the pub across the street."
"I'd rather talk at my place," she mewls.
In other words, she'd rather fuck at her place.
