Page 55 of Hart Breaker

“You shut your pretty lips and listen to me, Riley Mae Brooks,” Sydney demands as she pulls up her dress and sits to pee. “He staked a claim in front of your girls and his teammates. You let that be what this is about because it is, in fact, what it’s about. He didn’t want you to marry that asshole long before he knew you were the girl in ’Cuse and not Lo. No one needs to know the original story because it doesn’t always matter.”

Lo smiles. “Totally agree.”

The door opens, and the girls walk in.

“Are we toasting in here or …?” Iz asks.

“Don’t think we’re too young to catch on that Hudson Hart is finally admitting he wants Riley. So hot.” Mags sighs.

“Hot or not, he just twat-swatted us,” Iz huffs. “I’m legal.”

“I think he’s just trying to protect you from being used by a player.” Sydney walks over to wash her hands.

“Such a man thing to do,” Iz huffs. “Such simple minds they have.”

Mags giggles. “In this day and age, they still think we’re the weaker sex? I think not. They know. They’re just trying to protect their fragile egos from realizing they’ve been played.”

“I think Hart’s heart is in the right place.” Lo shrugs.

Before we even polish off a bottle, I fall asleep, and when I wake up, there’s a note beside my head.

You’ve had an emotional day, so we’re letting you sleep while the four of us hit the gym.

Which was Lo’s idea. I didn’t sign up for this shit …

Text us when you wake up.

XOXO

Syd

I have had an emotional day, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be able to sleep tonight without getting rid of this nervous energy, I think as I quickly change into workout gear and head to the gym.

By the time I figure out where the gym is, how to get in without my key, and realizing I left my phone behind, they’ve already taken off.

The gym is completely empty, and I’m here, wide awake at nearly midnight, so I decide to get at least a thirty-minute run in.

I find the surround sound system and change the station to 90’s rock. Nirvana’s “Come As You Are” is playing, and I realize that, without a playlist, I may not find my stride. But whatever, I need this.

I realize the 90’s rock gods are on my corner when Green Days’ “Basket Case” begins. I increase my stride.

The gym is pretty sweet and more modern than some hotel gyms I’ve used, but it is definitely not like the one at Legacy Stadium. It’s brightly lit, and the floor-to-ceiling windows give an amazing view of the Vegas skyline outside. It’s cool, but Vegas was never my favorite city. Although, it is the first place a man literally swooped me up and tossed me over his shoulder who wasn’t related.

When the song changes, I can’t help but start singing along to Offspring’s “Self Esteem.” Freaking love this song.

I’m lost in my own head, singing along, trying to keep my stride up, when someone steps onto the empty treadmill beside me, and that someone is … Hudson Hart.

“What are you doing?” I ask as I grab the handrails to stop myself from faceplanting onto the moving belt, which would be disastrous.

“Don’t try to mess up my routine, Brooksie. Pretend I’m not even here,” he says as he begins tapping the speed button and the incline.

Fucking show-off.

Not to be outdone by him, I increase my speed to match his.

I catch his smirk in his reflection when the song changes, and I don’t know if it’s me, or “Mr. Jones” that has him smirking. I mean, it’s a good song and always makes me smile, but never as big as I am right now when he starts singing along at the top of his lungs.

“What is wrong with you?” I ask, unable to stop myself from laughing.

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