“No.”
“Yes.”
We both answer him at the same time.
“Right.” He draws the word out, clearly not believing either one of us. “I’m going to assume you do and also assume it’s something I don’t want to get in the middle of.”
Audrey turns her glare to Scott.
“Why don’t you two hit the treadmills? Normal splits to warm up. I need to go do…something.” He bolts away from us like a scared kitten.
“Fuck,” Audrey whispers to herself.
“Do you, uh, know where the treadmills are?”
“Yes, Logan. I have eyes.”
She spins, looking around the gym as if trying to find them. When the hell did she get here?
Holy shit. I should not be getting hard at the way she spits out my name. But it reminds me of the times we used to fight.
Nothing major. Normal couple things. But enough that whenever she said my name—Logan, just Logan—I had to have her. We’d combust.
Fuck, if it wasn’t one of the best things about being with her.
I follow after her as she goes to the area of the gym where the treadmills are. I can see the scar on the side of her knee from here.
It’s small. I still remember seeing her crash. She’d had a few here and there over the years. It’s expected in downhill skiing. How do you learn what not to do if you don’t do it is what Audrey always told me.
But when I saw her crash that fateful day, I knew it was different from the others. She didn’t bounce back up. She wasn’t griping about an icy spot on the moguls near the gate after disqualifying.
My heart was in my throat the entire time I was watching it unfold. I wanted to call her so many times. I knew what she was going through. I was in the thick of my recovery when it happened, so I had nothing but time on my hands.
Hell, I had to give my brother my phone so I wouldn’t be tempted.
Why would she have wanted to hear from me?
Audrey punches the buttons on the treadmill with more force than necessary. It shouldn’t give me this much joy to see her so riled up.
But why else would she be this rattled if seeing me isn’t causing a reaction in her?
I pretend to wipe the sweat from my face to hide my smile.
I was never good at keeping my reactions to myself. Gramps says I always wear my heart on my sleeve.
Setting my speed to my usual starting pace, something slow to ease myself into it, I can’t help but keep peering at Audrey.
Her pace matches mine until I see her eyes drift over to me. She ticks her speed up another notch. Fine. If that’s how she wants to play it, two can play at that game.
I tick my speed up two higher. This was always one of the things I loved most about Audrey. Her competitive spirit.
Every time we played a game, we’d up the stakes. Something had to be on the line. We loved outdoing one another—seeing who could make the other do something ridiculous.
It usually ended up with some pretty hot sex too.
Shit. I really need to stop thinking about her in bed. It’s only going to make this situation more awkward.
Audrey one-ups me again and I follow.
