Page 38 of Forgotten Comeback

Only when he’s gone do I realize he never answered my question.

Flipping on the light in Russell’s office, I search his desk, looking for any clue of his whereabouts. Really hoping my little outburst at the poker party isn’t the reason he ghosted us. But come on! If the man can’t handle one little threat of a broken nose, he was in the wrong line of work.

A glance at the calendar, and I see Taylor’s friend Kat is scheduled for the first personal training slot this morning, but what grabs my attention is the ten o’clock.

Uh-oh. Best have my groin cup in place before that session.

I unlock the front door and flip on the lights as members begin to trickle in. Heading down the hall, I run into Kat. Making a show of looking around, I say, “Your boyfriend gonna attack me again if I speak to you?”

“Sorry about that,” she says sheepishly. “He’s not my boyfriend, not that it makes it any better.”

“You know what would make it better?” I answer on autopilot before I catch myself.

My God, I really am getting sick of my bullshit.

She rolls her eyes and keeps walking. “Bye, Gavin.”

I hustle after her. “Wait up. You’re looking at Ace’s new trainer. Come spar with me. Your boyfriend’s not the only one who can throw a jab.”

Kat snorts. “I told you he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Who is he, then?” Because my fist and his face need an introduction.

“We gonna gab, or are we gonna jab?” she taunts.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.”

I run Kat through her paces, and she does a decent job for someone with no combat sports background. Glancing at the clock, I tell her, “Good job today.”

“Thank fuck,” she says, wiping the sweat from her brow with her forearm.

“Take tomorrow off; you’re gonna be sore as hell.” I point at her.

“You got it. Hey, did you ever get word to Inferno about me dealing at the party? I’d love to score some extra cash,” she says.

I shake my head, helping her remove the gloves. “I didn’t get a chance; it was a pretty busy night.” Considering the casinoparties are on pause, it’s a moot point. Just as well, because Taylor hates my guts; hates my gutsmorethan she already did, which is saying something.

“How is it you know him?” she asks.

Shrugging, I help unwrap her hands before tossing the wrap into a laundry basket. “I’m a bartender. You meet all kinds.”

“Does he ever hang around here?” she wonders.

“Not that I’m aware of,” I reply vaguely.

“Gavin,” someone calls, and I glance over her shoulder. “Gotta go. I’ll see you next time.” I approach the man exiting the locker room. “Just letting you know the toilet’s backed up,” he tells me.

Stepping inside, I turn right back around. “Thanks. I’ll call a plumber.” I assured John I could handle the gym, but I draw the line at plunging shit.

Taylor

Sipping my tea, I debate whether to go to the gym or wallow in my pajamas. I scroll through my messages. Kat’s going to the gym early this morning, but that’s not why I nearly spit out my chai latte.

WTF? I can’t believe you left me at the club without a ride!!!!!

Rage propels my thumbs over my keyboard.

WTF back at you! I can’t believe you cheated on me and are acting like I’m the problem here!!!!!