Page 15 of My Dearest Mackenzie

I didn’t want to admit it, but I liked his sincerity. Most people I met these days were not honest and real. “Yes, it’s about me, accomplishing something no one believed I could,” I admitted.

“Exactly. There is something thrilling about doing what everyone said you couldn’t…”

He said it with the corner of his mouth tipped up, and I couldn’t help but ask, “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking about doing something on my own. Like when I travel, and I sit on the balcony in boxer shorts and drink a coffee without anyone pestering me. Although I feel like you’d find me.”

“Ha, ha! Probably, if you hadn’t agreed to meet me. Tell me, when can we talk about Ros—Milly?”

He smiled, his white teeth on display. “Next time we get together.”

“Next time?”

“Yeah. Now we’re going to order another drink and unpack all this misery you’re toting around.”

“Ummm…”

“I can’t believe it—I’ve rendered all four-feet-and-change of Feisty Frankie wordless. Don’t kickbox me out of here.”

If I wasn’t in all white and gladiator sandals, I might have…

Tuesday, I heard the weight bar clang as I racked it before snagging a towel to wipe the sweat off my shoulder.

“You have two more,” Neil, my expensive-as-hell trainer said matter-of-factly.

“Take it easy…I’ll get to them…I’m paying you.”

It was a near constant joke between the two of us. He pushed me and I complained every step of the way, wondering why I hired him to do this to me.

“What’s up with you today? You still mad about the date? Poor baby, I forced you to meet a supermodel.”

I looked over at Spencer doing squats in the mirror.

“You know this is my gym, right? Anyway, that fiasco? It was last week. I’ve forgotten about it already.”

He laughed, setting down the dumbbell he’d been holding.

“Let’s go,” Neil barked then ribbed us some more. “If you ladies wanted to chat, you should’ve gone for coffee.”

I hoisted the bar off the rack and started with my deadlifts.

“Good for your running, boss. Keep it up,” Neil said to me before instructing Spencer to do push-ups.

“Now Millsy, what’s eating you?” Spencer spoke through broken breaths.

Fucking Corey had called me Millsy once in front of Spencer, and now he picked only the most special times to bring it out.

Racking the bar early again, I blew out a breath.

This whole scenario reminded me of a different time and place in a weight room. Of course, one woman had changed—the love interest—and the other hadn’t.

“Women problems?” Neil asked, an eyebrow raised. “Aren’t you a little too old for that?”

“I don’t pay you to be my therapist, and just because I have a decade on you doesn’t mean I’m old.”

More whispers of the past. My teammate, Teddy, had tried to help, and I’d accused him of being a shrink. Insulted him along the way too.

Neil leaned into the mirrored wall. I’d turned my third bedroom into an exercise room. Bachelor’s prerogative, I called it. It was meant to be a nursery, but there would be none of that around here…

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