Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
preston
I march to the car, and Lily follows.
The whole ride to her school is uncomfortable—physically and morally.
My body’s tense, my thoughts are colliding, and I’m pretty sure my soul has clocked out. I watch my knuckles go white on the steering wheel. Either I hold on, or I lose my goddamn mind.
My kid is fully absorbed in her Spanish lessons, and I briefly contemplate investing in the app. Not sure if it’s gratitude to the developer or just good sense.
After kissing Lily goodbye and sending her off with her sparkly backpack and not a care in the world, I park down the block, open my phone, and start typing.
Preston
I thought I’d give you time to rest. Maybe some space.
But you don’t need that, do you?
Fuck no, she doesn’t. She’s twenty-eight. Probably doesn’t even know what a refractory period is. It’s me who needs the blue pill.
I glance down at my lap.
Well. Not anymore, I don’t.
I decide to put her drive to the test.
Preston
Lesson #2.
Get that pink little thing back on your clit.
But turn your voice notes on first.
I want to hear it this time. Loud and clear.
Timer for three minutes. Edge, but don’t finish.
Three dots. Typing.
Mia
Dr. Preston, we both have somewhere to be, and we can’t be late.
She’s playing it cool, but I know better. I can practically hear the smirk in her text.
Preston
Lie down in bed, or I’m coming back and pinning you there myself.
The three dots pop up again. My pulse spikes like I’m the one being threatened.
Mia
Go meet Principal Julian. She must be waiting for you.
Something will be waiting for you too, once you’re done. I promise. Now go.
I exhale hard through my nose.
Preston
See you later, Trouble. Hear you sooner. ;)
The meeting goes smoother than I deserve. Thanks to Mia, who loaded my phone with talking points from the obvious to the things I never would’ve thought to bring it up myself. I still can’t believe she’s never formally taken care of a kid before.
She did mention helping raise her younger brother—that must be where these instincts come from.
I rush home an hour and a half later, full of hope and plans, only to find… no one there.
Is she lost inside Liam’s ginormous new property? Did they have a second viewing? I can’t be sure.
I’m about to press send on a ‘Where are you?’ message when the answer comes in the form of a doorbell.
Has she forgotten her keys?
I run to the door more excited than a rescue puppy, fling it open, and am hit in the chest with disappointment.
Standing there is the new trainer, whose name I’ve forgotten because my eternal erection deleted all critical memory slots.
Behind him: Mia.
Behind her: a very fashionable woman in thick frames. She must be the interior designer. Also unnamed. Equally unwelcome.
An alarm blares from my phone with one of Mia’s migraine-inducing alerts.
I glance down. “YAY! GYM TIME!” flashes across the screen, surrounded by weightlifting emojis.
I rub my face and utter my most sincere thought out loud, “Fuck, no.”
Mia breezes past the trainer, bumps my hip with hers, then calls back to the group, “What he means is, ‘welcome everybody!’”
I’m still standing there, basically a bouncer with a boner, while our guests politely wait to be let in.
Mia extends a hand to the trainer. “Hi, Linc. I’m Mia. We spoke on the phone.”
Then she turns back to me, and her gaze drops to my crotch.
She cackles.
Full-body, no-shame, can’t-stop-cackling at my very public, very unresolved situation.
“Please don’t injure our guests with that,” she whispers for my ears only. Her eyes glint. “Oh my God, Preston. Don’t hurt me either.”
She nudges me backward, and I stumble, red-faced, morally compromised.
She waves the guests toward the living room. “Make yourselves at home. Please give me a minute to get things ready.”
Then she leans into me, lowering her voice.
“You? Go change. Splash cold water on your face. Careful, Doctor. Or that third leg’s gonna throw you off your center of gravity.
” She’s wiping tears now. The woman is cracking up at her own jokes and my state.
“You’ve got a session, and then the designer will be waiting for you right after. ”
She’s still smiling when she walks away, but I spin her toward me.
“Are you finding this funny?”
“Hilarious, actually.” Her hands land on her waist, smug as hell. “Are you planning to train in jeans? I don’t want that poor man losing an eye.”
I scowl, not sharing her humor. “I thought the designer was coming this afternoon.”
“She had an opening,” Mia says breezily, “so I told her she could swing by and check the measurements while you trained.”
“That means we won’t be alone.” I’m frustrated, disappointed—and still hard. Not a great combo.
“Mm-hmm.” She rolls her lips, clearly amused. “I’m on the clock, Dr. Preston. And what I planned for you comes before what you planned for me.”
I’m not sure I agree with her priorities. But I’m definitely not winning this argument at the bottom of the stairs, with people waiting for us.
So once more, I follow her lead, change and meet Linc at the gym. It smells like pine cleaner, thanks to Mia’s obsessive cleaning, old rubber from the floor, and testosterone oozing from my pores.
Usually, that would calm me. Today, it makes me want to throw something.
Linc’s already stretching. I’m not. I can’t.
“Rough day?” he asks.
“You could say that.”
“Wanna spar?”
“God, yes.”
We start slow—jabs, blocks, resets—but soon my hits come too fast. Too hard. My body’s moving like it’s been lit from the inside and has nowhere to put the heat.
“Okay, man,” Linc pants. “Maybe dial it back a—”
I hit his pads so hard that it knocks him back a step.
He laughs nervously. “Alright. You’re either pissed off, or this is your weird version of cardio.”
“I’m fine,” I snap. Spoiler: I am not. Forget exploding. Implosion’s the real threat.
I catch Mia out of the corner of my eye, posted at the entrance to the gym. She’s holding my electrolyte drink, but hasn’t brought it over yet. She watches in silence for another moment.
“You okay in here?” she calls, cocking her head.
“No fatalities yet,” Linc pants. He’s the one under assault, so he assumes she’s asking him.
Mia raises a brow. “That’s… reassuring.”
She crosses her arms and leans against the wall, watching us spar with a look that says, poor bastard, you have no idea what you walked into.
I throw another hit. Too fast. Too sloppy. Linc dodges it.
“Whoa! Did someone piss in your smoothie this morning?” I grunt and punch harder as my answer. He catches it. “You’ve got some serious energy today, man.”
Mia lets out a dry laugh. “I promise, he’s not usually this murdery.” Then she flicks her gaze to me with a look halfway between calm down and I’ll kill you myself.
Linc steps back and shrugs off the mitts, shaking out his hands.
“Well,” he says carefully, “I’m no longer sure if this is a training session or a purge, so I’m just gonna stay out of your way.” He nods toward the heavy bag. “Let’s switch things up.”
I’m not against the switch. As long as I can keep punching something, I don’t really care if it’s human or bolted to the ceiling.
Mia steps in before I have my way with the bag. She covers my fingers with hers as I reach for the bottle she brought. She mouths, “Breathe,” and I let it out. She winks, and my grip eases. “And behave,” she whispers, right before she turns and slips out.
That’s the first time my shoulders drop since I left her bedroom this morning.