Behind him, a wedding guest lifts her phone.
The flash explodes.
Click.
Oh, shit.
12
COREY
I’ve been awake since five, too wired to sleep, so I’ve spent the morning trying to outrun my thoughts in the gym at our new place.
I’m on the weight bench, the top of my back braced against the edge, hands over my head and gripping the bench beneath me, an exercise ball pinned between my calves, and I’m lifting it. Hips driving upward, core locked so tight my abs are screaming, legs rising in a controlled arc that makes every muscle from my ribs to my ankles feel alive and furious.
The camera is recording from the floor in front of me, angled for my online followers, and I know exactly how this reverse plank position looks with me holding myself up just by my shoulders and hands. The workout matters, but so does the show.
I hold at the top. Three seconds. Five. My arms are trembling against the bench and my obliques are on fire, but I keep my hips raised and roll them in one slow, controlled circle before adding a deliberate thrust. It will destroy the comment section later, which is precisely why I do it.
This move requires every ounce of focus I have, which is the entire point, because if I’m not focused on holding this position,I’m distracted by Claire and the way she tasted when I kissed her last night, and that’s a road my body can’t afford to go down.
Cherry lips. Five feet, four inches of beauty. And beneath all of that, her scent has threaded so deep into my system that I still smell it twelve hours later.
I grunt through rep fourteen. My hip flexors are begging for mercy, but I give them nothing because that’s not how this works. Control. Precision. Every rep clean and earned.
The gym is half set up. Brody got the weight bench and cable machine in before he got distracted, which is Brody’s entire personality compressed into a single action. Boxes of dumbbells stacked against the wall. Thirty square feet of cleared space.
Every fiber in my core is engaged when a second ball slams into my stomach.
The air punches out of me. My legs drop, and the ball between my calves flings sideways and cracks off the cable machine. My feet hit the floor on instinct. I shove myself upright, heart hammering, and the laugh that tears out of me is loud enough to rattle the windows.
Brody. He steps into the room, damp hair falling across his forehead from a late shower, a smear of something on his chin he’s wiping away with his thumb. Crumbs. He’s been cooking. Of course he has. The man processes emotions through pastry.
I head over to switch the camera off.
“Morning, sunshine,” he says.
“You just torpedoed a perfect take, dickhead.”
“You’ve been down here for six hours. Pretty sure you’ve got enough footage to retire on.” He nods at the tripod. “How many videos?”
“Enough for a month and a half.” I grab my water bottle and drain half of it, letting the cold hit my chest. “Couldn’t switch off.”
“Yeah, me neither.” He folds his arms, leans against the wall, the tension in his jaw sharp beneath the easy grin. Brody hides it better than any of us, but I’ve known him long enough that I can read the tells.
I throw the towel over my shoulder and face him. “Fuck, man. You should’ve warned us about Claire.”
“I did. Every damn day for weeks.” He grins as though his mind is already with Claire.
“You told us how gone you were for her. Not that she’s our potential scent mate.”
Brody adjusts himself over his jeans with zero subtlety. “Could only confirm she was mine. Can’t speak for you two, but I told you she was incredible.”
“Fuck!” Jakob fills the doorway. Blond curls everywhere, black track pants, a T-shirt so crumpled he obviously slept in it. Or didn’t sleep. His expression is the specific kind of wrecked I’ve never seen on him before. Jakob is the wall, and right now the wall has cracks. “You’re talking about Claire,” he says. “Good. I haven’t slept a single goddamn minute.”
“Heard you last night, buddy,” I state. “Several times.”
He barks out a laugh as he drags both hands through his hair and drops onto the stack of mats against the wall. “How the hell have you survived weeks next door to her without losing your mind?” He’s staring at Brody.