Gym Junkie

Why did we have to meet so young?

And why do I feel like this? If I understand why, then maybe I can tackle the problem head on.

It’s not like I want to be with anyone else, because I don’t. I can think of nothing worse than being with another man, so why do I feel like I need to run far, far away?

I just wish I had some time on my own—time to stand on my own two feet, you know? To make my own decisions and choices, travel where I want to, when I want to. I just need twelve months. If I’d had that freedom two years ago I would have been well and truly over it by now.

Would Simon give me twelve months?

Could I ask him to give me twelve months to be alone, and then meet back up and get engaged, settle down and live a happily ever after life?

No, that’s so selfish. I couldn’t ask that of him. It wouldn’t be fair.

My heart starts to beat faster.

Would he do that for me?

What if he met someone else and fell madly in love? I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t go through life watching Simon love someone who wasn’t me.

I’m the person he loves; I’m the person he is meant to be with. This is a dumb idea. Of course he would meet someone else. He’s gorgeous and intelligent. A young up-and-coming anaesthetist like him would be snatched up.

I get out of bed in a rush, go to the bathroom, turn the light on, and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My heart is beating fast at the sheer thought of losing him.

“Stop it,” I whisper to myself. “Don’t fuck this up. He’s beautiful. Marry him and forget this stupid nonsense.”

Day five of no sleep.

I lie on my side and watch as the clock ticks over to 3:23 a.m. My pillow is wet from my tears. Simon and I have been fighting all week, and now he’s not talking to me.

He’s forcing me into a corner to marry him or leave.

Make a decision.

I feel like I’m on the precipice of Hell because I know what I need to do, and I feel sick about it. I’m going to ask him for a twelve-month break. I need to be honest and tell him exactly how I feel. I love him desperately, but I need this time to discover myself. In the back of my mind I know I could lose him, and if I do I’ll spend the rest of my life with a broken heart regretting the decision I’m about to make.

I could never love anyone else. Simon is my soul mate.

But if I don’t leave I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering what would have happened if I did.

Twelve months and I’ll be back with you my love, and I’ll be the best fucking wife you could ever hope for.

You have my word.

Chapter 1

8 months later

Brock

“Morning.” I smile as I walk through the large office space. Two rows of five desks sit in one main hall. There’s a hive of activity going on, and this is where most of our work is done. Down a corridor, to the right, is my private office, along with the bathrooms and storerooms. Cindy is working in reception, and apart from Jesten and Ben, the other men who work for me haven’t arrived for the day yet.

My company is Marx Security, and we’re private investigators. Each of the men who work for me have a past in the armed forces or the police force. They all come with baggage, that’s a given, but they’re also hard as fuck, which is what I need. There are ten of us at the moment, with another three joining us from the United States soon. We take on special cases and are employed by the government or clients that have enough money to be able to afford us. Very few civilians can, but we get the results that others don’t and we’re worth every penny.

“Hey,” Jesten greets me as he studies his phone.

“Hi, Brock,” Cindy coos, leaning forward and resting on her elbows as she grins over her computer.

I force a smile and drop my head as I walk past her and into my office. I knew it wasn’t a good idea to hire her. I knew it before she even opened her mouth. Gorgeous, young, and as tempting as hell, Cindy is a walking, talking recipe for an X-rated after-hours meeting on my desk. Luckily for her, I take my job very seriously and I’ve worked too damn hard to fuck it up now with my hungry dick. She wouldn’t be able to take what I have to give anyway. She acts like a bad girl, but I know her type. She’s way too pure for my tastes. The poor fool is now openly swooning over me every day, and I have to tell you, it’s fucking annoying. One of these days I’m going to tell her just how much. I dump my bag onto my desk and look around my office. It’s neat, modern, and was decorated by my two sisters, Natasha and Bridget. This is my happy place now. Back when I was a navy seal, the dream of opening this business was what kept me going throughout my lengthier deployments.