Page 28 of Strictly the Worst

An hour later we make it to the gym. This time he insisted that we both change into workout gear. I pointed out I didn’t have any, so he marched me over to the boutique in the hotel lobby and made me try on a pair of calf length leggings and a crop top. I feel horrendously exposed in them as we walk into the – thankfully empty – gym.

“You go first,” I tell him, pointing at the treadmill.

“How fast do you want me to run?” he asks.

Truth be told, I have no idea. I think I might be allergic to gyms. I certainly haven’t stepped foot inside of one in years. I do a yoga class at our local YMCA on the Saturday mornings when Zoe isn’t home, but apart from that most of my energy goes into renovations.

“How about ten?” I say, sounding uncertain., because I have no idea what a good speed is.

He starts to laugh. And then he gets on the treadmill and presses the start button. Before long, his legs are a blur as he runs faster than I can focus on him.

And the man is barely breaking a sweat.

“Can you run faster?” I ask him.

“Fuck off, Carmichael.”

I start to laugh, which makes the shot go completely shaky.

“Okay, your turn,” he says when I finally tell him he can stop.

“Oh no.” I shake my head. “I’ll just stand here and look pretty.”

He takes the phone from me and marches me over to the treadmill. “Get on.”

“I can’t run,” I tell him honestly.

“Of course you can run. Everybody can run.”

I lift an eyebrow at him as I hit the start button.

Within a minute tears are rolling down his face as I attempt to keep a seven mile an hour pace. My lungs feel like they’re about to explode, my whole body drenched in sweat.

“Did you get it?” I puff out, my throat burning.

“Get what?” Linc asks.

“The shot?”

“Oh. I forgot to tell you, the screen locked.” He holds up the phone to show me the black screen. “Let’s try again.”

“Let’s not.” I hit the stop button on the treadmill, but I don’t expect it to stop so quickly. I nearly end up face down on the belt.

And he still can’t stop laughing.

“I’ll get you back for this,” I tell him, grabbing a towel to mop my sweat ridden face.

“Sure you will.” He grins and passes me back the phone, before grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator and throwing it to me. “Drink, Carmichael. Before we end up taking shots of the Grand Exuma Hospital.”

“There’s no Grand Exuma Hospital,” I tell him. “There’s a mini healthcare place and after that you have to go off-island.”

His eyes catch mine again. “Of course you’d know that.”

“I like to research a location thoroughly before I make a pitch,” I say, defensively.

Linc lifts a brow. “I’m beginning to notice.”

CHAPTER

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