Page 87 of The Puck Stops Here

And he didn’t like it.

‘He’s the grown-up in this relationship.’

He strode past her and set his phone down – funny that he’d been messaging her when she’d only been across the hall. Maybe he’d been attuned to her presence before he’d set eyes on her. Maybe that was why he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head in the gym, in the shower…

He started to pull his stuff from the locker. ‘I do what he says. Most of the time.’

‘Why do you do that?’

‘Because he tends to be right.’

‘I didn’t mean, why do you do what he says, I mean, why do you put yourself down?’

He snapped around. ‘I’m not.’

‘No?’

‘No.’ He swallowed the tightness in his chest. ‘If you don’t want an eyeful, you best turn your back.’ He took the towel in both hands and her eyes flared. ‘Or you can leave. Your choice.’

He thought she’d hurry off. He’dhopedshe’d hurry off. He had no desire to explore the path she wanted to venture down.

Instead, she turned to face the wall. ‘Don’t you have a gym in your building?’

He hesitated. Was he really going to strip with her just a few yards away?

Oh, fuck it. He dropped the towel and set about his business, trying to tune her out. But his body had other ideas, hyper aware of her perfume on the air, the subtle sound of her breath…down, dude, down.

‘Of course we have our own gym in our suite.’

‘So why come here to use this one?’

‘I knew it would be deserted and sometimes, that’s all I want. To be in my own head, in my own space.’

‘Even though the traffic is hell?’

‘Funny thing about being in a blacked-out 4x4, you’re anonymous and everyone gets out of your way. Just the way I like it.’

He zipped up his jeans, relieved to be contained, even if it was uncomfortable as fuck. ‘You can turn around now.’

She did so slowly, her eyes alighting on his chest as he picked up his tee.

‘If you like your own space so much,’ she said as he pulled it over his head, her words hitching with her breath and he fought back a grin. ‘Why do you still live with your brother?’

And just like that the grin died. ‘Do you ever quit with the interviewing?’

He yanked his shirt into position, the action as aggressive as his question.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I was genuinely curious… personally not professionally.’

‘So the journalist in you isn’t getting all hot under the collar right now?’

‘No, that’s just me.’ And then she blushed. ‘Funny Blake. Very funny.’

‘Why are you so interested in my living arrangements, if not for the article?’

‘Because you’re twenty-eight, you have the money to go your separate ways and yet you choose to live together? Even though you’ve just said you’d rather sit through traffic and come here to work out than exercise in the home you share with your brother.’

‘There’s more equipment here.’

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