“What can I say?” I laugh.
“As much as I hate her brothers,” he admits, “I kinda like her.”
“You’re just pissed they walked in your bar like they owned the place.”
“Damn right I am. They probably could’ve pulled out their wallets and bought the place with their pocket change, and I find that downright offensive.”
My laughter booms through the gym, getting the attention of the two guys sparring in the ring across the room. “So, you and Ryder gonna move in or what?”
“You sure it won’t fuck up your love life?”
“Love life? Try fuck life, and no, it won’t.”
A wash of relief passes through his eyes and isn’t missed by me. “Thanks, brother.”
“Shut the fuck up and just don’t ask me to help you move your shit.” Circling the bag, I concentrate on my footwork and not the thoughts of Camilla that are wiggling their way in my mind.
“Bond’s here, so I’m out,” Nate growls. “Call me when you’re done and we can work out the details.”
“Okay.” Over his shoulder, my gaze lands on Hannah’s. She’s talking to Bond, but watching me. Flipping my sight back to my brother, I laugh. “I think this will be a quick one.”
“What? The workout or her?” he asks with a little nod to Hannah.
“I’m not touching that with a ten-foot pole.”
“I never could count well,” he says, heading for the door.
“And you say you’re smart one,” I call after him.
“We all have our moments.”
As Bond’s voice trails through the air and makes its way to me, my eyes involuntarily roll to the back of my head.
Bond Grayson is a fantastic boxer, my height and weight, and aggressive. He’s the perfect training partner—or he would be, if he could keep his mouth shut.
Outside the ring, he’s the epitome of what I can’t stand. Loud, arrogant, and impulsive—he’s a dick. I can only barely tolerate him the time or two a week we meet up to train, and I wouldn’t tolerate him then if I didn’t need that prize money a couple of times a year.
My shoulders sag as the truth swirls around me.
I don’t really need that money this year. God knows my ribs don’t need the punishment either. But Nate and Ryder do.
With the curled smirk of Bond coming straight at me, I push aside what I really want to do—saying fuck it and going to find Cam—and prepare to bang it out with Bond.
Camilla
“HEY,” I SAY INTO THE phone as my keys hit the little glass tray I keep by the door. “How was the gym?”
“You home yet?”
My brows furrow at his quick question. “I just walked in. Why?”
>
“No reason.”
“I was going to call you in a second,” I tell him. “I literally just walked in the door. Is everything okay?”
He blows out a breath. “I just, you know, it’s getting late and I wanted to make sure you made it home.”