Page 32 of Mine to Ruin

I always wondered who he was. I couldn’t make his features out then, my eyes blurry from my tears.

“Took you long enough to figure it out.” He cocks his head and his eyes seal on mine.

My ears ring with the truth my heart knows. I backtrack, stunned into silence. At the door, I fumble with the knob, and rush outside with my heart beating in my throat.

On my way home, all I can think about is that night seven years ago, and tears rush down my face. In bed, as I toss and turn, I think of how a young man held me together with his mere presence, and even though I could feel his misery lacing his every step and word, he was strong enough for us both.

I get up and stumble into my closet and on my knees, I pick up a box. With shaking hands, I take the suit jacket and bury my face in it. It was him, all along it was him.

The next morning, when I enter my studio, I find two donuts, an iced coffee, and a note with impeccable curvy handwriting. My heart makes a happy dance.

Thinking of you. I squeal and jump and hold it to my chest, beaming.

I leave Kian a note of my own. You’re making me fat.

The next morning, there’s another note, and my heart squeals, excitement making my insides bubble.

Is exercising an option?

Am I fat?

Is there a right answer to that? If so, please share. P.S. You’re perfect.

What if I take the exercising option? Will you be my trainer?

If I get to choose when and how?

Throughout the week, we leave each other more notes.

I’ll need a trial session to see if you’re good enough.

Angel, I’ll show you good, you’re going to be damaged.

And with every morning, the heat level increases.

When I get to work on Friday morning, I find workout gear, a smoothie, and a note that says Welcome to my world.

I roll my eyes and text a quick reply.

Your world is green and sweaty.

His reply, Tomorrow at seven am in my penthouse. He sounds sexy even when he is texting.

Okay, Mr. Boss.

I am one.

An arrogant one, too, but sexiness overrules arrogance in his case.

Chapter 13

Ellia

My alarm rings, but I shove my phone under my pillow until I can no longer ignore it. I scoot up and hurry to take a shower and change. I speed up to the hotel, even though I’m already late. It is the worst decision to start exercising on a Saturday.

When Kian opens his apartment door, he’s only in his trunks, and I almost have a coronary at the dips of his muscles and those ripped arms. He catches me openly gawking at him, and he flexes them.

I stammer, pointing at his body. “I see you already exercised? And it’s Saturday. What time do you get up?”

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