Page 81 of Crave Me

CHAPTER 19

Wren

The phone rings as I finish sending my email to the tech department, letting them know that Evan will be by at three. I reach for the receiver. “Evan Jonah’s office. This is Wren.”

There’s no one on the other line, but it’s not exactly dead. “Hello?” I ask.

Whoever called, disconnects. This is the third time this week this has happened, and from the digital display on the phone screen, it looks like it was transferred from the reception desk.

I house the receiver, my hand slowly slipping away from the slick plastic. Staying with Evan turned into living with him, although most of my things are still at the house I share with Finn. But since I moved in and we began commuting to work, Bryant seems to have disappeared. That doesn’t mean I think he’s done messing with me.

My stare falls to the finance report I was reading. It’s not even eight and I’ve already been kicking ass for two hours. I flip through it, trying to shove thoughts of Bryant away.

I read through the last page as I walk into Evan’s office, not bothering to knock.

If I didn’t know Evan’s office was soundproofed before, I’d know it now, as the quiet from my office is replaced by my little brother’s booming voice. “Jab, jab, hook, roundhouse, roundhouse, jab. Uppercut, uppercut. Dig deep, Evan. Dig deep.”

“He’s going to have to dig deep later, Finnie,” I tell him, glancing from the report to the digital wall clock over the flat-screens. “He has a meeting in ten.”

My voice cuts off as I see Evan nailing the heavy bag Finn set up. When Finn first took over as Evan’s personal trainer, his objective was strength training and conditioning to help him power through the day and release some stress. But after attending Finn’s last title defense, he asked Finn to train him in MMA.

I’ll be honest, mixed martial arts is a brutal sport. I never expected Evan to love it. We’ve caught the last few pay-per-view fights on T.V. and have already booked our hotel room for Finn’s next fight in Vegas. Like me, Evan seems in it for the long haul.

I smile, watching his gloved hands connect in rapid fire, a fresh coat of sweat dripping lines down his bare chest. Oh, but my man doesn’t stop with the sexy there. The skin-tight MMA shorts he’s wearing show off the “V” at his waist and a very yummy and pronounced set of abs.

I close in, only because I need to talk to him and not just to take in the eye candy. But now that I’m here, it’s my obligation to all the heterosexual women out there to take another visual lick.

His breath comes fast as he pummels the bag and wraps up the workout. Between the grunts and the way his chest rises and falls with each hard intake, I’m reminded of our very enthusiastic “good morning” sometime before dawn. With Finn here, I’ll keep my hands to myself. Can’t say I’ll do the same once he leaves.

He gives me a wink as he rips off his gloves. “How was that?”

“Bad-ass, bossman,” I tell him.

He laughs. “Thank you, but I was speaking to your brother.”

“Your kicks need work,” Finn tells him, nudging my shoulder affectionately. “But I’ll admit, you’re a fucking natural when it comes to throwing a swing.”

“My prior boxing experience helps. I took it for years as my physical education elective.”

“Yeah?” Finn asks.

“That’s right. It was that or ballroom dancing and cricket.”

Horror finds its way into Finn’s voice. “You poor bastard.”

I reach for the towel placed on the chair and pass it to Evan as Finn carries the heavy bag to the large closet where he stores the training equipment.

Evan swipes his face and gives me a quick kiss. “How are we looking?” he asks, motioning to the report.

“Not bad,” I say.

He straightens, knowing what I mean. The good faith deposits barely keep us afloat. Eventually, the sales made will net billions, but for now we need revenue.

Out of respect for Evan, I don’t mention anything in front of Finn. But for all Finn says things he shouldn’t, he’s not dumb. He lifts a hand as he heads out the door. “Later,” he says.

Evan thanks him over my goodbye. The door shuts, the abrupt silence thickening along with the tension. I force a smile. “You have ten minutes before your meeting. I have a fresh suit hanging for you in your bathroom.”

“Thank you.” He swipes the towel over his chest. “I was expecting better news.”

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