Chapter 7
JACK
I scan the parking lot, and as much as I’m pretending I’m just taking in my surroundings, I know exactly who I’m looking for.
Lark. I’ve been doing this all week, looking for her everywhere I go.
We’ve been fake dating for almost two weeks now and have gone on a handful of coffee dates, but I’m starting to look forward to seeing her in a way that has nothing to do with the arrangement. Which is really fucking inconvenient.
The morning crowd is already going strong inside—mostly professionals getting their workouts in before heading to office jobs. The woman at the front desk, Sarah something, waves me through with a friendly smile.
The gym really does look good. Dom’s done an absolutely amazing job with the place since taking over after Dad died.
What used to be Dad’s basic boxing gym is now state-of-the-art—high ceilings, exposed brick, some of Dad’s old boxing posters still up, but everything else is upgraded.
Top equipment, new flooring, even a physical therapy suite in the back.
I head straight for Dad’s old office, now Dom’s domain. His door is open and he’s sitting at the desk, three computer monitors glowing in front of him, wearing that hyper-focused expression he gets when he’s deep in work mode. Always the workaholic, even at seven in the damn morning.
“Morning,” I call out, leaning casually in the doorway and rapping my knuckles against the frame.
He looks up, startled like I’ve pulled him out of deep focus, then checks his watch with exaggerated surprise. “You’re on time. Again. I’m shocked at this new version of you lately. Who are you and what did you do with my baby brother?”
“Come on now, I’ve always taken training seriously,” I protest. “I wasn’t that bad in my younger years. I showed up. Eventually.”
“My memory of your teenage years is a bit different,” he says, but he’s smiling, that rare Dom smile that softens his usually stern features. “Theo’s already here. Pretty sure he’s set up in the back corner somewhere with the cable machines.”
“You gonna join us today?” I ask, though I already know the answer before the words even leave my mouth.
“Nope. I have a shit ton of administrative work today and a boxing class to teach this afternoon.” His eyes are already drifting back to his computer screen, a clear dismissal. Dominic Midnight, absolute master of the brief interaction and quick exit.
I roll my eyes and head through the main floor, nodding at a few people I vaguely recognize from high school. Some of them do visible double-takes when they register who I am. I’m not usually here this early in the morning, and definitely not with this level of consistency.
The past week I’ve been almost religious about my training schedule, showing up on time, completing every workout Hans sends me. My trainer is both proud and deeply shocked by this development.
Theo’s at the cable machine doing lat pulldowns when I find him. His form is perfect, the weights moving smoothly up and down.
“Look who’s showing up to morning sessions consistently,” he says without breaking his rhythm or even looking at me. “Miracles do happen.”
“Very funny,” I say. “You should tell Dom that one, I think you two are working from the same joke book.” I drop my bag against the wall and begin some basic warm-up exercises.
Theo smiles, finishing his set with one final controlled pull. “Dom already give you shit about your punctuality?”
“Oh yeah, first thing. He’s efficient about everything, including roasting his youngest brother.”
“Well, that’s Dom for you.” Theo releases the bar and stands, rolling his shoulders. “I’m impressed though, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you stick to any kind of routine this well. Not that we see you much over the years with you always traveling, but still. This is new.”
“Jack 2.0,” I say. “Zero crazy parties, all dedicated responsibility and focus. Since my contract depends entirely on proving I’m not a complete liability, perception is everything right now.”
I don’t mention that in addition to steady consistent workouts, my fake girlfriend is also helping significantly with this whole perception problem.
“So what sadistic torture did Hans send you today?” Theo grunts, moving to adjust the weight on his machine, adding another heavy plate.
“A mix of HIIT cardio and heavy strength training.” Hans is in Italy but he’s checking in constantly. We’re tight, been working together since I started in Formula One, but I hate him depending on what workout he sends. Which just makes him send harder ones the next day when I complain.
My phone buzzes loudly in my pocket. I glance at it while continuing to roll my shoulders out, working through the tightness.
Lark: For the event this weekend I’m planning to drive myself up to Seattle, just a heads up. I can get off early at the bar, but I’ll still be running a bit late, so I think it makes more sense for me to just meet you there.
Me: Yeah no problem at all. But I can definitely wait for you if you want, I don’t mind hanging around.
Lark: No it’s better this way, I’m guessing you like driving your motorcycle at death-defying speeds. Plus I’d prefer to arrive without looking like I stuck my entire head out of a tornado. Think of what my hair and makeup would look like.
I almost type that I think she’d look pretty fucking good no matter how messy her hair was, but I think better of it and catch myself. Wrong message to send for a fake relationship. Instead I say:
Me: Well if you change your mind, I’m always happy to take you. I promise to follow all posted speed limits.
Lark: Sure you will. And I’m secretly Dolly Parton.
I smile down at my phone, then realize Theo’s watching me with a knowing look on his face.
“I assume that’s Lark?” he asks, setting down his water bottle.
“Uh, yeah, we’re going to a thing in Seattle.” I tuck my phone away quickly, suddenly very interested in adjusting the weight plates on the nearby bench press. “One of Robert’s fancy events.”
“So you’re really doing this?” he asks, his tone careful. “Dating Lark. I mean I know it’s only been a few dates, but like I said the other day, you’re playing with fire here, Jack.”
Theo, if only you knew the truth. “Relax, I actually really like Lark,” I say, which isn’t technically a lie. She’s great—funny, talented, smart, no bullshit. “I wouldn’t date her if I thought it was going to crash and burn spectacularly.”
Nice, another strategic half-truth. Man, this whole fake dating thing isn’t nearly as difficult as I thought it would be.
“Good. I’m glad to hear that.” Theo turns to face me fully, giving me his complete attention.
His tone is light but there’s something more serious underneath it.
“I’m not trying to tell you what to do with your life—well, maybe I am a little bit—but I’m just watching out for both of you.
Lark’s great, really great, and I don’t want to see either of you get hurt.
And I definitely don’t want to see you create another complicated mess. ”
“Listen, we’re taking things slow,” I say, loading heavy plates onto the barbell for squats. “Getting to know each other properly. It’s not like my usual thing at all.”
“That’s exactly what worries me. You don’t do slow, Jack. You don’t do relationships that last. You do three weeks of intense fun and then you’re gone, off to the next thing.”
“That was before.” I position myself carefully under the bar, feeling the familiar heavy weight settle across my shoulders and upper back.
The tension in my traps is a welcome distraction from this increasingly uncomfortable conversation.
“I’m twenty-six now, not twenty-one anymore. Things change. People mature.”
“Do they though?” He’s smiling slightly as he watches my form with a critical eye. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re still fundamentally the same Jack who went through all the women in Dark River before you even turned twenty.”
“Now come on, that’s a gross exaggeration,” I counter. “I never dated Lucy Hardwick.”
“Why do I even try with you?” Theo looks up toward the ceiling like he’s seeking divine intervention. “You’re impossible.”
I laugh. “You worry waaaay too much, Theo. You’ve gotta learn to relax a little.”
“Impossible with you as my brother.”
I move into my next set of squats, really focusing on keeping my core tight and my back perfectly straight. Theo’s watching my form with that critical coaching eye, but he doesn’t offer any corrections or adjustments, which means I’m executing it correctly.
My phone buzzes again from where I’ve set it on the nearby bench. I finish my entire set before checking it, not wanting to break my focus.
Lark: OMG the label just emailed! They said the Instagram post you did a few days ago has them “very excited about trajectory and growth potential.” Their exact words not mine
Me: Hell yeah! That’s amazing! Damn we might actually pull this whole thing off.
Lark: Scary thought. But eeek!
I smile, feeling unexpectedly pleased for her.
Lark’s a great person and she absolutely deserves this break, this opportunity.
She’s working her ass off for this dream, and it’s about time someone noticed.
I’d spent an entire evening earlier this week listening to nearly all her music on Spotify while doing recovery stretches, and she’s crazy talented.
It’s insane that the label hasn’t scooped her up already.
“You’re grinning at your phone again,” Theo observes, adjusting the weight on the cable machine for his next exercise.
“Shut up,” I respond automatically with an eye roll, tucking my phone away and refocusing on the workout in front of me.
“Jack Midnight?” A female voice suddenly interrupts our banter.
I turn to see a woman in her mid-twenties, blonde hair pulled back in a high, tight ponytail, wearing perfectly color-coordinated workout gear. She’s giving me a very thorough once-over, her smile widening considerably as our eyes meet.