Let Love Live (The Love Series #5) (23 page)

I step on the wheel lock of the stroller and turn to leave as someone else walks in.

A hot someone else.

Tall. Built.

Tattoos flirt with the edge of his shirt – his employee shirt.

Maybe joining here might not be a bad idea, after all.

Relationships and thoughts of
more
be damned. I could use a little eye-candy in my life.

“Oh, here.” He takes a step back to the door through which he just walked. “Let me get that for you.” His large frame doesn’t leave much room for me to step past him. I actually have to turn sideways just so I don’t touch him.

“Thanks,” I say, my voice a bit gruffer than it usually is.

He smiles at me through the glass as I approach Reid before he turns his back and goes to the counter where Rachel was sitting when we walked in.

“Everything okay?” I have to actually jog a few steps to catch up to Reid who is a few feet in front of me.

“Yeah, Maddy’s just really sick this morning.” He looks over at me, a curious look on his face. “You okay?”

“Me? I’m fine,” I lie, because lying to both him and myself is much easier than admitting how much I want to go back to the gym and see just what Michelson’s has to offer.

“Oh, here. Let me get that for you.” A father and his son slide out beneath my arm as I walk into the gym. I watch him walk away. He’s fit and trim, very easy on the eyes. Smells good, too. 

Figures. The good-looking ones are always taken,
I think to myself as I watch him approach his partner on the sidewalk.

Stepping into the gym, no, scratch that,
my
gym, feels like stepping on cloud nine. As I walk inside, the new smell of everything filters in. I really can’t believe this is all mine. Years of hard work and planning are finally paying off.

Thoughts of all I had to sacrifice, of all that was taken from me, float in the periphery, but I choose to ignore them. No point in dwelling on what can’t be changed.

Scanning the empty space, I see Rachel clicking away on the computer. Now that the gym is open, all I need are a few customers to get things started. And, you know, make sure I don’t lose all my money in this venture.

“Hey, Con.” Rachel spins in her desk chair an extra time just for good measure. “So,” she stretches out the word, “what do you think?” She waves her arm though the air, displaying the open gym space.

“I think it’s all unreal.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty freaking cool. Oh, and I think I may have gotten those two guys who were just here interested in signing up.”

“Hopefully the ads I took out bring some traffic in, too. And I have Carla starting that women’s self-defense class next week,” I ramble on nervously as I make my way behind the desk, making a small checklist of to-do items for the day. Sadly, without too many people, there isn’t much to do.

“Calm down. Remember, we don’t have the official grand opening until next weekend. That’s when people will start flocking in. It’ll all work out. Just wait and see.”

Rachel, ever the optimist, always looks at the bright side of everything. I’m the worrier. She’s the spitting image of Mom and I’m cleaved from the same stone as our father. A pang of sadness sinks in my stomach. I wish they could have been here to see this, to see what their children had become.

But, on the other hand, there’s a small part of me that’s relieved they didn’t have to witness what brought me here in the first place.

Keying in on my silence, Rachel scoots next to me, and laces her arms around my waist, leaning her head against my upper arm. “They’d be real proud of you, Conner.” She looks up at me, her big brown eyes watery. “I know I am,” she says, squeezing me to her side even tighter.

“Thanks, kid.” I kiss the top of her head and get back to work, not wanting to focus on the sad stuff on what should be a happy day.

By mid-week, we’ve gotten more than a handful of new members and even though the big event – a meet and greet with a few MMA fighters turned trainers – isn’t scheduled until Saturday, business is already on the upswing.

When I was planning everything out, I kept the staff to a minimum. Since I wasn’t too sure of how many people I could afford to pay, I figured I’d just run myself ragged until I couldn’t stand.

Turns out you can only pull off five fourteen hour days, after a grueling yearlong construction process, before you fall flat on your ass. Other than Carla’s class, which is in its first session, it’s fairly quiet.

I finish my protein and energy drink and look at the clock. Rachel should be in soon to close up for the evening so I can run the last minute errands for this weekend.

The phone rings at the same time the bell above the front door jingles. It’s the guys from last Saturday. They’re both wearing business suits – classically cut and snug in all the right places. Seeing the one who I held the door open for actually makes me stutter as I pick up the phone.

“Hi−uh−” I forget the greeting I’m always on Rachel to use. “Michelson’s MMA. Conner speaking. How can I help you today?” I recover, my voice, professional and cordial. The suits walk up to the counter and I cover the mouthpiece of the phone as I say, “I’ll be with you in just one second.”

“Con, it’s me.” Rachel’s voice is low, barely above a whisper. “Migraine. Can’t make it in.” Her words are clipped; she’s obviously in pain.

“Sure thing, kid. I’ll check on you tomorrow.” She grunts her goodbye, in too much pain to say another word.

I turn my attention back to the suits, who I’ve not so creatively named Suit Number One and Suit Number Two. Their backs are turned to me and my eyes immediately rove over the one on the left. He’s taken off his navy blue jacket and hooked it on his finger, draping it casually over his shoulder. It falls just past his narrow hips, grazing the upper curve of his ass. His other hand is in his pocket and I follow the rest of his arm, fully appreciating the way the material pulls over his bicep and broad shoulder. The guy next to him catches me staring and smirks at me.

If I had a man who looked like Suit Number One, I guess I’d have gotten used to people checking him out. As they both turn their attention back to me, Suit Number Two extends his hand, introducing himself. “Nice place you got here.”

“Thanks,” I accept his comment quietly, trying not to get too proud.

Suit Number One follows his partner’s lead in introductions. His hand is warm and firm, sending little shocks up my arm. “We met the other morning,” he clarifies, pumping my hand.

“Oh, yeah. That’s right.” I pull my hand away, needing not to have contact with him if I want to sound somewhat like I have a brain. “The stroller, right?” I play it off as if I barely remember him because telling him I remember his scent as he strode past me, or the green flecks in his blue eyes as he tried to avoid looking at me, would seem just a bit too forthcoming.

“It’s Dylan, actually.” His full lips spread into a shy smile as dimples form in his cheeks.

“Conner.” I smile back.

Suit Number Two clears his throat. I’d completely forgotten about him even being there. “And I’m Reid.” He shoots Dylan a look that I can’t exactly place before turning his attention back to me. “Now that we’ve gotten introductions out of the way,” he leads.

“Right.” I suddenly remember what I should be doing. “Let me show you guys around and then you can sign up.” I let them walk in front of me into the space where the treadmills and stationary bikes stand in rows facing a wall of televisions. “If you’re interested, that is.” My words come out suggestively and I know I need to tone it down. Hitting on someone else’s man isn’t my style. Doing it right in front of the boyfriend is totally unlike me.

As I step into the gym behind them, I slip back into professional mode. Having to focus on the machines and the classes we offer keeps my attention off Dylan and the pull of his suit across his body.

Mentally calculating how long it’s been since Austin and I were together, I lose focus for a second.
It can’t be
that
long!
I think to myself. We had only started dating a month before my accident and he stuck by my side through my recovery, but at the end of the day, when I could no longer offer him the celebrity lifestyle that my MMA career had promised me, he was out the door in two seconds flat.

It’s been six months since I’ve even seen or heard from his sorry ass.

“So where do we sign?” Dylan’s voice cuts through my sidetracked brain.

Refocusing my attention back on him, I stammer. “Huh? What?”

He steps next to me, pats me on the shoulder, but his touch lands more on my chest than my arm. I stare down at his hand, struck dumb – well, dumber than I currently sound, anyway. He pulls his hand away, chuckling at me. “The gym. We like it. Where do we sign?”

Reid laughs along with Dylan as they follow me back out to the front entrance. I give them the paperwork and before long, they’re both off to the locker room to get changed.

I do
not
think about what Dylan looks like out of his suit. Nope, I definitely don’t do that. It’s been so long since anyone has worked me up like that. And it’s ridiculous really, if I think about it.

Dylan’s here with his partner. They have a kid together. And here I am fantasizing about someone else’s man just because I think he’s attractive.

Though, anyone would be a fool to think otherwise. His light blond hair flops forward in his blue-grey eyes. Everything about him screams perfection; a hard jawline, dusted with the perfect five o’clock shadow; high cheekbones create a square shape without being too hard-edged. The one thing that’s not perfect, his nose; it’s crooked, looks like it’s been broken more than once. It actually makes him even more perfect than if it had been straight, somehow.

I can’t let myself go there, though. There’s too much on my plate right now to add in a relationship. When the hell did staring down a gorgeous man become looking for a relationship.

Maybe I just need to get laid.

Or sleep. Yeah, that’s it. I definitely just need some sleep.

It’s official. I’ve crossed the line into crazy.

Just as I try to shake the crazy away, I look up from my paperwork, and see Reid and Dylan step out of the locker room. Mesh shorts and t-shirts replace Dylan’s high-end suit, but he doesn’t look any less attractive. If it’s possible, he looks even more so.