Page 68 of You're All I Need

I just refuse to explore why.

“Thanks, Candace,” I state, backing away and heading toward the locker room.

I keep my head down and walk quickly to my destination. I’m determined to get this done, even if my brain is telling me just to go home. Slipping inside the locker room, I move toward an empty locker. I set my bag on the bench and quickly change into shorts, a T-shirt, and my athletic shoes, then grab my water bottle. I shove my work clothes and bag inside the locker and return to the gym.

I spot several familiar faces, and even though a few acknowledge me, most keep their attention on their workout. I need to work legs today, but I always include a little cardio while I’m here. Of course, the treadmills are all busy, which I should take as another sign to get the hell out of here.

Ignoring the warning, I move to the back of the room and stretch. There’re a few gym bunnies hanging around, stretching and husband hunting. I try to avoid them and their claws, sticking to the far side of the large mat area.

“Hi, Caden,” one of them purrs, batting her eyelashes and waving her perfectly manicured fingers my way.

I politely return the gesture, but I don’t smile. Smiles invite conversation.

I can feel their eyes on me as I go through my pre-workout routine, making sure my ass is pointed to the wall. I do a quick job at stretching and head for some of the leg machines. I usually have a system, a routine, but right now, I’m just trying to get this done. So, I jump on the first machine available and get to it.

I’m just switching machines after wiping it down when I hear a laugh. A very familiar laugh. My brain registers Adrienne’s laugh, my eyes seeking her out automatically. She’s not far away, finishing up using a squat machine. My entire being seems to relax a bit at seeing her, my heart doing this wild little gallop in my chest. I tell myself it’s from lack of sleep, but…

Just as quickly as the smile spreads, it falls from my lips. Standing there, leaning over the machine and inserting himself into Adrienne’s personal space is Brock Streeter. Fucking douchebag Brock. The guy who’s only two years older than me and has been married three times already. He’s always falling in and out of love, usually cheating on his significant other somewhere along the way.

And he’s with Adrienne.

I’m moving before I can even talk myself out of it. The angel on my shoulder isn’t anywhere near, probably hog-tied and gagged by the devil on the other shoulder. He’s slipping on his boxing gloves and ready to throw down with the one guy I can’t fucking stand. He’s cocky, a total manwhore, and thinks he’s better than everyone else. I’ve always hated him, and I don’t hate anyone.

Well, except my sister’s soon-to-be ex-husband, Warner.

Those two were created from the same cloth. Literally. Brock is Warner’s younger brother and are more alike than I’d like to admit.

I barely reach his side when I bark out, “What are you doing, Streeter?”

He turns my way and gives me a charming, nonchalant grin. “Hey, Neumann.” He glances down at his gym outfit and adds, “I thought it was pretty self-explanatory, considering we’re at the gym and I’m in gym clothes.”

I feel Adrienne’s gaze on me, but I ignore her. “You need to move on. Now.”

He laughs. Fucking laughs. It takes every ounce of control I possess not to swing and knock that smug smile straight off his face. “I’m just talking to my friend. That a problem?” he asks, the challenge laid between us.

“Yes.”

He chuckles and turns his attention to Adrienne. “He’s a funny guy. Apparently, no one is allowed to have friends and talk during workouts.” He rolls his eyes.

“I mean it, Brock. Get lost. Leave her alone.”

He glances back at me before returning his gaze to Adrienne. Then, he does it again. “Ahhh, so it’s like that. You staking your claim, Neumann?” He turns to Adrienne and says, “Watch out for this one. He changes women more than I change my underwear.”

“Fuck you, Streeter.” My agitation flares, the anger building and ready to explode.

“All right,” Adrienne says, stepping between Brock and me. To Brock, she says, “Thanks for offering suggestions. I’ll take them into consideration with my workouts.”

Brock stands tall as he gazes down at Adrienne. “Yeah. If you need any help, just holler.” He looks my way out of the corner of his eye. “You gonna be all right?”

The insinuation is evident, as to say she’s not safe with me. Complete bullshit. I’d never hurt Adrienne or any other woman. Now, a douche like Brock? Yeah, my fist has always wanted to meet his jaw.

“I’m fine, thank you,” Adrienne insists gently, a reassuring smile on her lips as she turns my way. “I heard you had a rough twenty-four hours,” she states. It’s not a question.

Brock walks away, but I still can’t seem to get this gut-churning anxiety to abate. I can feel the tension in my jaw and limbs and have no clue how to get rid of it. Usually, I’d go to the gym, but since I’m already here and have no desire to continue my workout, I realize I need to cut my losses and go home.

“You okay?” she asks, taking a step closer and into my personal space.

I run my hands through my hair. “Yeah.”

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