Fifteen minutes later, Titan Elite came into view, the familiar sign stretching across the warehouse-style building. I parked, stepped out of my car, and strolled inside. The gym smelled of rubber mats and sweat. Some people wouldn’t find that appealing, but I did.
“Morning, Keaton,” Hailey greeted from behind the front desk.
“Morning.” I adjusted the strap on my gym bag. I headed toward the locker room, threw my stuff into my usual locker, and stepped onto the floor where two of my roommates, Enzo and Derek, were already sparring in the ring.
Most mornings, I began with some sort of cardio, whether it was running, rowing, shadow boxing, or whatever my coachessuggested. Today was treadmill day, which was my least favorite part of my routine, but it was a great way to get my body ready for everything else. I climbed onto the machine and did a quick warm-up before increasing the incline and speed.
Ten minutes in, sweat began sliding down my back. I’d seen plenty of guys lose a fight because they lacked stamina, and their opponents just had to wait for them to gas out. I refused to let that happen, so I pushed the button and increased my speed.
When I stepped off thirty minutes later, another roommate, Mason, came over to chat.
“Did you see Carson’s conditioning plan this week? Someone must’ve pissed him off, because I’m pretty sure he’s trying to kill us.”
I snorted. “My money’s on you for that one.”
He stepped back in mock surprise. “What are you talking about? I’m a joy to be around.”
“You can pull that shit on other people, but I know the truth, since I’m almost a hundred percent sure that was your protein powder I had to clean up this morning.”
We moved toward the mats, joking back and forth as we prepared for a Muay Thai session. I was stretching as we waited for the rest of the class to join us when I noticed Devon showing someone around.
As they got closer, my eyes widened, and I inhaled sharply.
Mason lifted a brow. “Everything good, man?”
“Yeah. Just a muscle cramp,” I lied.
My gaze locked on the guy with stormy hazel eyes and brown hair buzzed on the sides, a tad longer on top.
My stomach dropped as memories I’d tried to suppress came rushing back to the surface.
I’d spent countless days sprawled across his bed with a game controller in my hands, nights climbing through his windowwhen things got bad at my house, and quiet talks in the dark about stuff I never told anyone else.
Then one night it had all ended.
Four years ago, he’d made sure I never wanted to see him again.
3
Rowan
Keaton Stafford wason the mats.
Not in my head. Not in some old memory that surfaced when I wasn’t paying attention, but right there in front of me after four years of not speaking to each other.
He was stretching, his hands braced behind him, legs out, calm and focused, as if he’d done it a thousand times in this gym and had no reason to look up.
Then he did.
His gaze snapped to mine, and the instant it landed, I knew he was pissed. He didn’t smile. He didn’t nod. He didn’t do any of the fake polite bullshit people usually fall back on when they run into someone from their past. Instead, his jaw tightened, and he just sat there holding my stare from across the room.
He looked different too; older, tougher, andsexier.
I kept walking with Devon.
He glanced at me. “You okay?”
“I’m good,” I replied quickly, wondering if he clocked the intense look on my face.
