Chapter 4
FOUR
Nina
Igroan as I push open the door to the gym, nausea crawling up my throat as my stomach turns from the sheer weight of it.
And probably the wine I drank last night.
I came home from lunch at Maggie and John’s with a bottle of wine and the other half of the banoffee pie I’d made.
Rarely am I late for work, but today, I feel horrific.
Water bottle in hand, I start to weave through the throngs of people and equipment.
I chose a shit time to come in today. The gym is packed with everyone rushing to get their workout done in their lunch hour.
I catch Logan’s eye as I’m passing the treadmills, and he gestures for me to wait a minute while he finishes up with his client.
Oh, not today, please.
I trudge to the main desk, sinking into the chair as a layer of sweat forms on my hairline.
God, I feel awful.
Logan is Lucy’s cousin and has worked in the gym since I opened it. He shares the shifts with Henry, my only other employee. I’m lucky to have them both, and I know I can trust them to have free rein on the gym.
“Anderson, you’re looking rough today.” Logan rounds the desk and stands behind me, checking the computer in front of me.
“Well, thanks, asshole. That better not be why you stopped me.” I squint up at him, the fluorescent lights making my head spin.
“One of the reasons,” He winks. “Henry can’t work this afternoon. He didn’t say why, but it’s not like him. Do you have any classes?”
I consider lying. The only thing I want to do this afternoon is sleep. My hand lifts, my fingers running aimlessly over my collarbone.
“Don’t try lying to me, Anderson. I already checked your sheet. I have a date, and I’m not cancelling.” He gives me a lopsided grin that I can’t help but return.
Logan is a total gym freak, his arms the same size as my thighs—maybe. But under all that hardness, he is the softest son of a bitch I’ve ever met.
“How the hell did you get a date?” I roll my eyes, teasing him.
Man, I do not want to cover the gym. I planned to leave right after my second class. Logan knows I won’t say no.
“Funny, I’ll be leaving at four.” He ruffles my hair then goes back to his client.
I make my way up the studio stairs, a calmness settling over me once I’m inside. A feeling I’ve not felt since I left on Friday.
This really is my sanctuary.
I give the floors a quick brush before setting out the mats for the girls’ warm-up. I’m just laying down the last one when I hear their giggles as they climb the stairs. Funnily enough, they never use the back door. Something about the muscle show downstairs that they can’t miss.
I smile as they come into view, brushing myself off and putting my game face on.
“Girls, that’s the best I’ve seen it! We are nearly there!” I say excitedly, and they all start to jump around, high-fiving one another. I make them stretch before they leave for the day, some of them staying on to work out downstairs.
With no more classes scheduled for the rest of the day, I start cleaning the studio mirrors. Logan is here for another hour, and I need to kill some time.
I’m midway through when I hear my phone ringing in my bag. Certain it won’t be my mum, I go to check who it is.
Erin O’Conner’s name lights up the screen, and I smile as I answer.
“Hey, you! It’s been months!”
“Nina! I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy. How are you?” I can hear her smile through the phone.
I knew the moment I met Erin that she was a beautiful person inside and out, a natural redhead, smart and stunning.
I haven’t seen her since I first started renting the space, but she has stayed in touch, making sure everything is always okay with the building.
“Ah, you know how it is. Work, men, mothers.” I laugh, pulling myself up to sit on the piano, the phone tucked in the crook of my neck.
She laughs along with me. “That sounds an awful lot like my life right now.”
“Well, that makes me feel better, thank you,” I say with a smile. “How is your mum?” I ask, feeling bad for moaning about my mum whilst hers is sick.
“Hmmm, she’s getting there. It’s going to be a long road to recovery,” she says sadly.
I try to lift her spirits. “Well, I feel like I’ll be needing a trip after this showcase. Maybe I could visit with Luce and Megs. I’m desperate to meet some of these Australian men you’ve been telling me about.”
“Actually, you might see me a little sooner than that. I have some documents that need to be signed and have to come home. I was hoping you’d be okay with me working out of the studio office for a couple of weeks? I know you said you don’t use it, but it’s totally fine if you don’t want me to.”
“Erin, of course, it’s your office! And you’re right, I don’t even use it. When will you be home? I will make sure the girls are free, and we can get drinks.” I start to plan in my head.
“Yeah, that would be good! I’ve missed London so much.”
My heart breaks for her a little. “It won’t be long, and you’ll be back here living the dream,” I say, tracing the initials engraved on the back of the piano.
“I wish that were the case, Nina,” she says solemnly. “So I plan to fly in on the twenty-fifth. I already booked my flight, hoping you’d be okay with me getting under your feet at the studio.” She laughs.
“Well, how presumptuous of you.” I smile. “Honestly, Erin, I don’t even know where the key is. I never use it. I won’t even know you’re here.”
“Right, that’s set then. I can’t wait to see you. Thank you, Nina.”
“Of course, take care, lovely. See you soon.”
I spotted the Bentley parked up on the other side of the road about an hour ago and have no idea how long Mason has been sitting there. Thankfully, he hasn’t come inside—yet. It’s why I plan to make a dash out the back once everyone has left the gym.
I still feel mortified about Saturday morning, although why I let my mother’s mistakes define my life is beyond me.
Lucy was right when she said I am nothing like my mother.
Apart from our appearance, we are the complete opposite of each other.
But sometimes, I find myself judging my morals, fearing that they’re a by-product of her.
I wish I’d been more prepared for him to turn up here. I would have made more of an effort, making him feel like an idiot for chasing me away with that mouth.
Now I’m thinking about his mouth, his full soft lips…
“Shit.”
Chancing a glance at the gym mirrors, I grimace. My hair is roughly pulled up on my head, my face bare of any makeup, and I’m wearing my yoga pants and a tank top. Yeah, I am definitely going out the back door tonight.
I’m just about to shut down the computer when I hear the door open and close. I know the last few members have not long left, so I sit with my head down, hoping it’s just them and they’ve come back for something.
Wishful thinking.
The first tell is his smell. It smothers me, taking me straight back to Friday night. Memories of his lips on my neck as he whispered sweet promises in my ear—the feel of him between my legs as I practically begged him to touch me.
God, I’m such a loser.
“Nina,” his deep voice purrs from the other side of the desk.
I start to flick through the blank pieces of paper in front of me, double time, as if I am doing something important—anything to keep my hands busy and my eyes off him.
Why does he smell so damn good?
“Nina,” he says impatiently after a beat.
He doesn’t seem like the type of man who likes to be ignored. I quirk a brow at the thought. I’m going to enjoy this. He says nothing, but I can feel his eyes burning into my head.
“I came to apologise for the other morning. I’m sorry if I offended you.”
I roll my eyes.
Do better, asshole.
“You left so fast I didn’t get a chance to explain. I didn’t think Elliot paid you—”
My head snaps up, ready to fight as anger rips through me at his blatant lie, but my words die on my lips when I catch sight of him.
He looks fucking hot. Even hotter than Friday night. He’s wearing a three-piece navy suit, his muscular shoulders filling it impeccably, and his hair sits in a perfect tousled mess on his stupidly handsome head.
He looks divine.
He smiles a cocky ‘I know I’m beautiful’ smile, and I avert my eyes again, composing myself.
“We’re closed.” I push out from behind the desk, hoping he will take the hint and leave.
He watches me with amusement as I get my bag from the staff room and move to stand at the entrance, waiting for him to leave. He eventually follows, stopping when he’s in front of me.
“Let me drive you home,” he murmurs, his hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Please?”
I want to lean into his touch; he has a hold over me that makes me feel weak. I jerk back, slapping his hand away. “Are you mad? As if I’d go anywhere with you. Leave now! I need to lock up.”
“I’m not letting you walk home alone. It’s getting dark out.” His eyes keep dropping to my lips, and I decide to play with him a bit. I dart my tongue out, wetting them.
Nice. And. Slowly.
“You didn’t have an issue with me walking home on Saturday morning,” I remind him, folding my arms in front of me.
He steps in closer, his nostrils flaring as his solid chest bumps against my arms. “No, I didn’t get a chance to. You ran off like a child before I could even get dressed.” He stares down at me, accusing, intense.
“That’s a shame, isn’t it? Leave.” I shoulder past him out onto the street.
He follows behind, his annoyance at my brush-off blatant as he mutters profanities under his breath.
I’m sure he planned to come here tonight, apologise, and expect me to drop down at his feet. I mean, I can’t imagine he is used to rejection. The mans a stud. An annoyingly handsome, rude stud.
I lock the door and turn, not expecting him to be standing directly behind me. He leans forward, caging me in with his arms on either side of my head. He looks down his perfectly imperfect nose at me, and my resistance wilts under his stare.