Page 50 of How to Lose a Pack in 10 Dates

But now, here I am. At Jace’s gym.Alone. Wearing a sports bra I bought specifically for this occasion and booty shorts so tight they might be fused to my DNA.

Because, apparently, I hate peace.

“Looking good,” he says in greeting, grinning as he appears from an office and tosses me a water bottle. “Ready to suffer?”

“I was born ready,” I lie.

“Cute,” he laughs. “Let’s see how long that lasts.”

He leads me into the back section of the gym—a private training room separated by a thick glass wall and stocked with every piece of equipment imaginable and no one else in sight. The floor’s padded, the lights are warm, and there’s a massive mirror along one wall just to make sure you can watch yourself die in high-definition.

The door swings to a close behind us, and as I start slowly getting ready—settling my water bottle down, pulling my hair up into a tight ponytail—Jace is just… Well.

Doing his thing, apparently.

He places a large mat down for us before he starts stretching and smirking.

This is why I don’t do one-night stands, or anything that comes close to them. It’s one thing playing the big flirt over text message, but in person, it’s totally different. I don’t know how I’m supposed to behave, or what I’m supposed to do. Do we speak about it? Do I bring it up, or ignore it entirely?

And does he do this often—hook up with innocent omegas and then walk it off like it’s cardio?

I shouldn’t care. Idon’tcare. I’m not allowed to be curious about his other hookups, and I’mdefinitelynot allowed to be jealous of a man I’m not even supposed to want.

“I thought we’d start easy,” he says, stretching his huge arms overhead.

His shirt rides up slightly, and I forget the English language for a second.

“Defineeasy.”

He grins. “Defineflexible.”

“Oh my god.”

“Come over here,” he gestures to the mat. “Bend for me, baby.”

“Stop.”

“Never,” he laughs, and that’s the moment I know I’m in trouble.Again. “I’m just messing with you,” he beams. “We’ll start with squats, for your warm up. I’ll watch your form.”

“Oh my god,” I mutter. “This is a porn setup.”

“Only if you ask nicely.”

I shoot him a glare but move toward the mat anyway. I turn toward the mirror, pretending I haven’t already mentally catalogued every inch of his body as I start to slowly bend down, trying to keep my back straight.

I immediately wobble.

“Okay, first of all—” Jace steps in behind me, hands firm on my hips as he corrects my stance, “—you’re arching too much. Unless you’re trying to offer it up like a mating gift, thenthisneeds to be down.”

He presses on my lower back for emphasis, and I grunt in surprise.

“Iaman omega,” I mutter, straightening. “It’s in my blood to be bendable and inconvenient.”

“Try again,” he laughs. “Slower this time.”

This time, his hand rests against my lower back while the other ghosts over my thigh. He murmurs corrections, his breath teasing the shell of my ear, and I amnotokay.

“Jace,” I say tightly. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

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