She’s still smiling when she walks away, but I spin her toward me.
“Are you finding this funny?”
“Hilarious, actually.” Her hands land on her waist, smug as hell. “Are you planning to train in jeans? I don’t want that poor man losing an eye.”
I scowl, not sharing her humor. “I thought the designer was coming this afternoon.”
“She had an opening,” Mia says breezily, “so I told her she could swing by and check the measurements while you trained.”
“That means we won’t be alone.” I’m frustrated, disappointed—and still hard. Not a great combo.
“Mm-hmm.” She rolls her lips, clearly amused. “I’m on the clock, Dr. Preston. And what I planned for you comes before what you planned for me.”
I’m not sure I agree with her priorities. But I’m definitely not winning this argument at the bottom of the stairs, with people waiting for us.
So once more, I follow her lead, change and meet Linc at the gym. It smells like pine cleaner, thanks to Mia’s obsessive cleaning, old rubber from the floor, and testosterone oozing from my pores.
Usually, that would calm me. Today, it makes me want to throw something.
Linc’s already stretching. I’m not. I can’t.
“Rough day?” he asks.
“You could say that.”
“Wanna spar?”
“God, yes.”
We start slow—jabs, blocks, resets—but soon my hits come too fast. Too hard. My body’s moving like it’s been lit from the inside and has nowhere to put the heat.
“Okay, man,” Linc pants. “Maybe dial it back a?—”
I hit his pads so hard that it knocks him back a step.
He laughs nervously. “Alright. You’re either pissed off, or this is your weird version of cardio.”
“I’m fine,” I snap. Spoiler: I am not. Forget exploding. Implosion’s the real threat.
I catch Mia out of the corner of my eye, posted at the entrance to the gym. She’s holding my electrolyte drink, but hasn’t brought it over yet. She watches in silence for another moment.
“You okay in here?” she calls, cocking her head.
“No fatalities yet,” Linc pants. He’s the one under assault, so he assumes she’s asking him.
Mia raises a brow. “That’s… reassuring.”
She crosses her arms and leans against the wall, watching us spar with a look that says,poor bastard, you have no idea what you walked into.
I throw another hit. Too fast. Too sloppy. Linc dodges it.
“Whoa! Did someone piss in your smoothie this morning?” I grunt and punch harder as my answer. He catches it. “You’ve got some serious energy today, man.”
Mia lets out a dry laugh. “I promise, he’s not usually this murdery.” Then she flicks her gaze to me with a look halfway betweencalm downandI’ll kill you myself.
Linc steps back and shrugs off the mitts, shaking out his hands.
“Well,” he says carefully, “I’m no longer sure if this is a training session or a purge, so I’m just gonna stay out of your way.” He nods toward the heavy bag. “Let’s switch things up.”
