Page 42 of Of Grief And Gratitude

I sighed, knowing she was a lost cause. “Yeah, but they don’t always taste good year-round.”

“Now I want guacamole.” Sloane opened the pantry and pulled out a bag of chips. “Can you stop by the store after the gym and pick up some avocados?”

Laughing, I nodded. “Sure, as long as I’m not dead after the workout.”

“You’ll survive,” she assured me. “I’ve never died on the mats.”

“That doesn’t mean you’ve never felt like you were dying.”

“Sometimes, but the guys aren’t much of a challenge anymore.” She shrugged and drained the last of her coffee before rinsing the cup and putting it in the dishwasher. “Let me know if your workout inspires you to take up jiu-jitsu. I could train you.”

“No danger of that happening,” I said sarcastically. “I have an aversion to developing defined abs.”

Sloane shook her head at me and pointed at the clock. “Is Rian here yet?”

“Shit.” I grabbed my phone and realized I’d silenced it. Rian had texted me a few times already. I reluctantly abandoned the rest of my coffee. “He’s circling the block. I’ve got to go. I’ll grab stuff for nachos.”

“Have fun!” Sloane called out as I grabbed a hoodie and rushed out the door.

Rian was coming around the corner when I hit the sidewalk, and I ran over to the street, hopping in his Jeep so he didn’t have to park.

“Sorry, I missed your texts,” I apologized while I buckled in.

“No worries.” His music blared while we headed to Flex, and I appreciated the playlist because the music helped pump me up for what I was about to do.

“When do you need me back here?” he asked as he pulled up in front of the large building with tinted glass windows framing the lower level.

Romeo hadn’t given me a timeframe, so I didn’t have an answer. “No idea. I’ll text you when I’m done.”

“Sounds good. Later.”

I climbed out of the Jeep and slammed the door behind me, taking a deep breath as I approached the building and opened the door, a rush of filtered cool air laden with disinfectant and air freshener hitting me in the face. I wrinkled my nose, reminded of yet another reason I wasn’t into going to the gym.

“Good morning,” a fit woman dressed like a concierge in a black suit greeted me from behind the front desk. I couldn’t see the gym interior from the entry, just a long open space with a coffee bar on one side and a smoothie bar on the other. Fancy.

“Hi,” I answered, double-checking Romeo’s instructions. “I’m Riona O’Neill. Here to see Mr. Neretti.”

“Of course, he’s expecting you,” she answered with a smile. “One moment, please.”

She picked up a phone and murmured something quietly enough that I couldn’t make out the words. That was a neat trick and effective for the luxury ambiance in the establishment. I selected a brochure for the spa and flipped through it, looking at the pictures of people with rocks lined up on their spines while they smiled serenely.

“Riona.” Romeo’s voice startled me. I hadn’t heard him approach.

When I turned, my jaw dropped. He wore a tight, sleeveless white shirt that displayed his muscles and grey workout pants that should be illegal.

“You okay?” he asked, his brows furrowing.

“Y–yes,” I stuttered. “Just fine. Good. Great, even.”

He smirked mischievously. “I see. Shall we?”

“Definitely.” Wait, what? He hadn’t just suggested sex, but that’s precisely where my unpredictable mind wandered. Those pants didn’t hide the outline of his cock.

“This way.” Romeo held a hand out, and I followed him through a door and onto the gym's main floor. Upbeat music played over the sound system, punctuated by treadmills and metal on metal.

“This is massive,” I observed, taking in all the unfamiliar machinery. I recognized the rows of treadmills and stationary bikes, at least. It was surprisingly empty for such a popular business, and it didn’t smell as bad as I’d expected of a place where people go to sweat.

“Yeah, it is,” he answered suggestively, placing his hands in his pockets and drawing my eye downward intentionally. He made his cock twitch like it was greeting me. Fuck.

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