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CHAPTER 22

THE GYM CHARLOTTE joined was already decorated for Halloween despite it only being the beginning of October.

She ducked under an enormous plastic tarantula suspended from the industrial ceiling as she stepped o the treadmill and headed for the free weights.

Skipping the barbells, Charlotte grabbed one of the training straps bolted to the wall between the weights and rowing machines. With one handle in each hand, she leaned back until she’d formed a bridge with her body and used her back and biceps to do inverse push-ups. If she was going to finally master the pull-ups for her FBI test, she needed to find new ways to get stronger.

As she trained, Charlotte’s thoughts drifted to Alex. It was happening with more and more frequency in the week since she’d spent the weekend at her house. Replaying the conversation with Alex, Charlotte wondered if she’d been too vulnerable. Told her too much about her past.

A pit opened in her stomach as her upper body strained to finish the reps. In truth, she’d wanted to tell Alex more. To

divulge that being a foster kid hadn’t been all bad. The experience had brought her Jayson.

The thought of him made Charlotte worried that she’d said too much. She didn’t usually talk to anyone like that. No one other than Jayson. Had she inadvertently revealed something? She didn’t think so, but she couldn’t be sure.

Words had poured out of her mouth like water bursting through a dam. A calculated trickle had turned into an unintentional flood.

Worry, cold and sickly, crept through her chest like an icy vine and strangled her guts. Before she could panic, Charlotte convinced herself that what she said to Alex didn’t matter. It wasn’t real.

A familiar voice broke Charlotte out of her thoughts.

“Don’t look at me,” Jayson whispered.

Reflexively, Charlotte’s head turned toward where Jayson was rowing on a nearby machine, a baseball cap pulled low obscured his face. With the combination of a hat and newly sprouted beard, she might not have recognized him if he hadn’t spoken.

“I said don’t look at me,” he insisted in a hushed command without breaking his rowing stride.

Charlotte rolled her eyes, but her heart soared. “Dude, she’s not having me followed.”

“I can’t take any chances. You never know. I’ve been sitting here for like ten minutes and you didn’t notice me,”

he countered before returning the rower’s handles to their cradle. “Wait ten minutes and meet me in the sauna,” he whispered, bending down and pretending to tie his shoe.

“Okay, James Bond,” Charlotte joked quietly, unable to resist the giddy joy of being with him again.

Charlotte marked the time on the clock above the mirrored wall as she did tricep dips on a weight bench. She gave him an extra minute before grabbing her towel and water bottle and cutting through the maze of cardio machines toward the locker rooms.

The choking odor of chlorine from the indoor pool stung Charlotte’s eyes as she turned down the short hallway t

o the cluster of four saunas. As soon as she saw an out of order sign on one of the doors, Charlotte smiled. Jayson was leaving very little to chance.

In an abundance of caution, Charlotte glanced over her shoulder, made sure no one was around, and opened the door despite the sign.

Jayson leapt from his seat and crushed her in a hug as soon as she closed the door.

“Aren’t you worried someone might come see why it’s not a balmy hundred and ninety-five degrees in here?”

Charlotte asked, squeezing him back. “Not that I’m complaining. I get enough heat from just living here, but I guess that’s not enough for some people.”

Jayson’s eyebrows knitted together as he pulled back.

“Are you nervous?”

Charlotte dried her face with her towel before plopping down on one of the benches, grateful he hadn’t turned the sauna on. “What?” she shrieked too loudly. “Why?”

“I don’t know. You have a chatty, nervous energy. That’s not exactly like you.” He sat down next to her without taking his eyes o her.

“Well, it’s not every night I have an impromptu, clandestine meeting like this,” she joked, projecting a steady calm. “At least not on a Wednesday.”