Page 110 of Moms of Mayhem
“Where are you headed?” Logan pointed at my gym bag, then the keys in my hand. “To see this hot PT Frankie says you drool over?”
Mikko raised an eyebrow. “Is this the same one who made our starting winger cry during hip mobility drills?”
I sighed. “Her name’s Emmy. I do not drool. And I only cried once.”
“Sure, bud,” Logan said, already heading my truck. “We’re coming. I gotta see this for myself.”
“You’re serious?”
Mikko shrugged. “I didn’t drive over Vail Pass to sit in your kitchen and talk about our feelings. Let’s go.”
“Fine.” I unlocked my truck, trying not to think about last night. “But get changed. If Emmy sees you standing around, she’ll rope you into Pilates, and I’m not saving you.”
Logan grinned. “How hard can it be?”
I just laughed. “Tell that to your hamstrings when you’re crying next to the senior citizens.”
Mikko muttered something in Finnish that probably translated to how much he hated us both.
We got in the truck, and I pulled out of the drive, answering questions about my mom, Ty, and the Mayhem. I did my best to dodge questions about Emmy, but the more I avoided the topic, the more they badgered me.
I parked in front of the studio, and Logan hopped out, staring up and down River Street. “Well, this is adorable. Does it come with an oat milk latte and a dentist? I think I have a cavity from the sweetness.”
Mikko squinted at the Elevation Pilates sign. “This is where she works?”
I clapped him on the shoulder. “This is where you die.”
The door opened and several women filtered out, wearing colored leggings and high buns. Logan’s gaze followed them, and I grabbed him by the hoodie to pull him back to me.
“She’s in the back, waiting for you,” Shannon said, not bothering to look up from the laptop resting on her thighs. She had her Doc Martens propped on the desk, legs outstretched, and the serious expression I knew meant she was studying.
“Oh, hello little Ten,” Logan said, and I slapped him upside the head. He jerked forward at the impact, but his grin didn’t falter.
Shannon looked up slowly, eyes flat. “I chew up guys like you and use their egos to line my trash can.”
Logan blinked. “Honestly, that’s not a turn-off.”
Mikko, standing a few feet behind him, just shook his head and said something soft in Finnish. It was too smooth and too reverent to be anything but a compliment.
Shannon looked at him, one dark eyebrow raised. No smile. No expression. Just one long, measured stare like shewas throwing down the gauntlet, waiting for him to back down.
I glanced between them, brows lifting. Mikko didn’t break eye contact.
Logan turned to me and stage-whispered, “Should we book them a room by the hour or...?”
I wasn’t sure what that was, but the thought of Emmy waiting had me headed down the aisle of reformers and toward the back room.
“Took you long enough.” Emmy rose on her toes to loop her arms around my neck when I turned the corner. Her mouth was on mine before I had a chance to tell her we weren’t alone, butfuck, she was too good to pass up.
Her lips moved against mine like she needed the contact as much as I did. Like the afternoons at her place when Jace was at school and long, lingering kisses behind closed doors at the clinic weren’t enough. And, God, I felt the same.
I couldn’t get enough of her, plain and simple.
Which was why I’d completely forgotten about the two idiots now standing frozen behind me.
“Uh,” Logan said, clearing his throat. “Should we come back in ten? Or five, from the look of you horndogs?”
Emmy jerked back, eyes widening in a split-second flash of embarrassment. But just as fast, it vanished, like it had never been there at all. She recovered like a pro, spun on her heel, and turned those sharp eyes on Logan.
