About to step into the gym, I slip my earbuds in, then swipe my key card, smirking to myself that it could be mine or Aubrey’s. As I tuck it back into my pocket, it’s as if there’s a magnetic pull grabbing my attention, and my gaze shifts to the corner where a few women are working out. From behind, there are two brunettes and a redhead—and I’d know that shade of auburn anywhere. Refraining from pressing play on an audiobook Isaac’s sister, Nicole, recommended to me, I make my way over to a weight bench nearby. Free weights have never been my favorite, but they’ll have to do if I want to ensure I catch Aubrey before she leaves.
The women are keeping a steady walking pace and I can only catch some of their conversation. Most of it is discussing how they’ll need to work out talking points while traveling. Aubrey mentioned they were going to be doing a tour of sorts as soon as they’re back home, so Isaac’s press conference likely complicated everything for Olivia’s team. I wish there was something I could do to help, but my hands are tied, and I should be focusing on damage control here in Canada.
As I’m pulling two heavier weights from the rack, I catch Olivia stopping her treadmill, saying something about taking a call. Tracy and Aubrey continue their workout, and even through the rhythmic whirling of gym equipment, I’m able to make out Tracy saying, “Does Livy know you’re pregnant?”
“I’m not.”
“Bullshit! You’re glowing!” Tracy squeals. “Did the IVF take? Are you sure we’re not pregnant?”
Aubrey huffs, but I don’t dare check for her expression. “Wedon’t know because it’s too soon to test.”
“Then why are you glowing? Is it a man? An orgasm glow? Please tell me you found a way to mount a hot-as-fuck Canadian after the time I walked in on you. Wait, does that make you a Mountie?”
I bite down on my lower lip to stifle my laugh, remembering the awkward encounter. Honestly, I assumed Tracy had spotted me, despite her covering her eyes. Maybe she did.
Aubrey lowers her voice, but as I listen closer, I still hear her reply, “We only hooked up a few times, so it won’t qualify me for law enforcement.”
“Who is it?” Tracy gasps. “Oh no! Is he a big deal? Like did you bone the Prince of Portugal or something? We’re already swamped with this whole Isaac and Olivia situation. We can’t have you fucking royalty.”
“First, Portugal doesn’t have a royal family. And second, he’s just a guy I met.”
I’m just a guy she met? Fuck. Her admission stings more than I thought it would.
Tracy seethes, “So help me, if I have to curate some ridiculous marketing campaign around this…”
“It’s Jamie, okay? Not a Prince, not a Prime Minister. He’s…” In the large floor-to-ceiling mirror, I spot Aubrey glancing around and I dip my head before she catches my reflection. “Fuck. He’s here.”
“Jamie? Who’s Jamie?”
I can only assume Tracy is also searching the gym. With a lot of my tattoos on full display, it’s no wonder Aubrey still recognized me, but I refuse to look up, resting my elbow on my knees as I curl one of the weights.
“You mean James? Oh, well, I don’t blame you. He’s hot. I just assumed you two were flirting all week because you were bored and horny. I had no idea you’d actually fucked him.”
“Will you keep it down,” Aubrey grits out, but it still pierces the space. “He might hear you.”
“Relax, Bree. He has his earbuds in. The guy is probably listening to some loud heavy metal and never even noticed we’re here.”
“No, he’s probably listening to his audiobook at normal speed like a psychopath and heard everything we said.”
“Hey now,” Tracy scoffs, “I listen at one-point-two, and I’m not a psychopath. Maybe you’re the weird one who listens at two-point-five. How do you even enjoy the narration? It’s an art, you know! Also, how do you know what speed he listens at if it’s just some random guy you hooked up with?”
“It’s… complicated. And I’m sorry, I shouldn’t judge audio speed; to each their own. But what I meant is that he’ll be able to multitask and probably is listening to everything we’re saying right now.”
I switch arms and try my hardest to not laugh. I shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but I’ll take “complicated” over “just a guy.” Also, we already discussed it, and she knows damn well I listen at one-point-five.
“He’s not. See?” Tracy insists, and I swear I can feel their eyes on me, but I don’t check in the mirror. “He’s too busy with arm day. And—oof—what an arm day it is.”
“Will you stop swooning? That man was inside me, remember?”
“I can swoon if I want. Plus, you’ve seen how beautifully curated the Prime Minister’s socials are. There’s nothing hotter than a man who knows how to properly market a politician.”
“If you say so. Just… don’t tell Livy, okay?”
I hear the treadmills slow, and not wanting to embarrass Tracy, I don’t chase after Aubrey. Carefully checking the mirror, I spot them both leaving, and I take out my phone to text her.
You’re coming home with me tonight.
I watch intently as the little typing dots appear before her reply.
