The King (Gentlemen Rogues 2)

I tossed in bed again.My brain going to the one place I did not want to go.

Saffron Abott.

Why her? No matter what I did, I couldn't help but think about her. The more I thought about her, apparently, the less she thought about me. Which was just bullshit. She always had an encouraging word for one of the lads. At target practice yesterday, she'd offered Saint a full smile, and it felt like I'd been hit right in the center of my chest. That utterly gorgeous smile had never once been trained on me. It was more than irritating; it was debilitating because I couldn't do anything about it. The more I thought about her, the less she looked at me. Not that I needed it. Fucking hell, I did not fucking need it.

With her being assigned as my trainer, a part of me had thought that would mean more personal one-on-one time. But with me, she was hesitant. She didn't talk much. More a string of instructions than anything else.

The question was, why?

You want to know something? Ask.

And that was what I wanted to do. But asking with Gabe Webb looming over us all the time was going to be a problem.

My brain kept trying to conjure up as many ways as possible to ask a simple question. What's your problem? Why do you hate me? Christ, I needed to get those feelings under control. The buzz, the hum every time she was near me had to stop.

Easier said than done.

No, I could control this. She and I were just going to have a conversation. It would be easy. Why the fuck do you hate me? What have I done to you? Did I shag one of your mates?

I groaned at the thought of that because that could have been anyone. I knew for sure I hadn't shagged her. I would never have forgotten that face.

What the hell? There had to be a reason. I just needed to know what it was. I could apologize for it and move on. Because if I wanted to get out of here, I was going to need her to do it. And it wasn't going to help if she wouldn't talk to me or train me, or worse, just blatantly ignore me. It had been two days of no words from her. If we kept up like that, I was never leaving.

What the hell are you going to do about our little problem?

I glanced down at my rock-hard dick. Fuck. That complication wasn't going away. Every time I thought about her, and oh God, that perfume she wore… I should have complained. She shouldn't be allowed to wear it.

Except she's a trainer who has your life in her hands. She can do whatever she wants. Including annihilate you.

I growled down at my currently unwanted companion.

Get your shit together. We can't have her. So what we're going to do is pretend we don't want her.

Sure, that should be completely easy to pull off.