Page 41 of Wild Love
As soon as she’s gone, I pull out my laptop and bring up the contract for my internship. JM Holdings. Oh my god, how could I be so stupid? John Maverick. Did Johnny do this? Of course he did. But why? And what else did he do?
I grab my phone.
Me: Are you at the arena?
Maverick: Yep. I’m in the weight room. What’s up?
Me: Have a minute?
Maverick: Of course. Come on down. I’ll see if I can sneak you into the locker room for a tour while you’re down here.
I stand and grab the Wild Fields sack spray. My cheeks burn with humiliation and rage.
“Everything okay?” Reese asks, looking up from his notepad. Quinn doesn’t spare me a glance. I can’t blame her. I know exactly how this looks.
“Perfect. I am going to take a walk while I brainstorm.”
And I might maim a hockey player while I’m at it.
14
Johnny
Jackand I have music pumping in the weight room. Hercules is working with Declan and Leo on the other side of the massive room. I asked Hercules to come up with a training plan for me, and he did not disappoint. I’m not going to be able to feel my arms when I leave here, but the man came through.
When Dakota appears in the doorway, I smile and drop my weights. She scans the room for me, and while she does, I appreciate today’s outfit—a light pink dress paired with those red Chucks again. She is smoking.
“Kota!” I call.
Her expression morphs into anger. Those sexy blue eyes narrow, and her chin drops as she glares at me across the room.Ah shit.
“You.” She marches over to me and pokes my bare chest with a pointy finger.
“What? What?” I rub my chest and take a step back.
She holds up one of the products for the male hygiene line I’m now endorsing.
“Oh.” It’s a dumb thing to say. I knew she’d find out, and I knew she’d be pissed, but I hoped when the time came, I’d know what to say. I don’t.
“Oh? Oh?” She comes at me again. She uncaps the spray and starts spritzing me with it.
I back up and put my hands up. Does that stop her? Hell to the no. I trip over a dumbbell and catch myself on a nearby bench, sitting and saying, “Stop. Okay. You’re pissed. I get it.”
“Pissed? You think this is pissed?”
“Uhhh…”
“Why am I working for your family’s company?”
Jack, who was doing squats, stops and rests his elbows on the bar, watching our interaction in the mirror with a grin.
“They needed someone to—”
She spritzes me again. “Wrong. Try again.”
“Blythe—”
Another goddamn spritz.
