Page 14 of Forgotten Comeback (Parisi Family #5)
Chapter
Thirteen
Gavin
A few days later…
“Ninety-eight. Ninety-nine.” I count out my bare-knuckles pushups. Russell’s MIA, which is bullshit. Everyone knows I’m the unreliable one in this crew. “One hundred.”
I fall back on my haunches, shaking out my hands. Red hair catches my attention, and I jump to my feet and hustle to the weights area.
“Is there a trainer, or do we do our own thing?” Kat asks Taylor, whose ass is looking extra voluptuous in those skin-tight leggings.
“I could help you lovely ladies.” I sidle up beside them.
“Kat, you’ve met Gavin,” Taylor says with thinly veiled hostility.
“Unofficially,” Kat says.
“Kat, still waiting to make it official.” I make a show of winking at Kat just to poke Taylor.
Kat snorts. “You’re still a shameless flirt.”
“Guilty as charged.” I smile unrepentant before sauntering off. Selecting a pair of hand weights from the rack, I glance in the mirror; Taylor’s shooting daggers at me.
I make a kissy-kissy face, even though I want to get in her face and demand why she blocked me. Was the dick pic a good idea? Obviously, I thought so at the time… I mean, no woman has ever complained before.
Taylor marches over and begins loading a barbell, and I drop my weights and grab the plate, helping her load the other side. “Are you trying to fuck every woman in my life?” She stares me down.
“If I were trying to fuck every woman in your life, I’d have already done so,” I taunt her.
She makes a gagging sound. “Your vanity knows no bounds.”
“How’s your orgasm-free relationship going?” I throw a verbal jab.
Taylor narrows her eyes. “Somebody is way too concerned with my sex life.”
“Somebody should be,” I inform her. “Guarantee Mia doesn’t make you come the way I did.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Taylor hisses. “You’re taking credit for the orgasm I gave myself?”
“So you just happened to be watching me jerk my dick, eyes never leaving mine when you squirted across the room?” The sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Maybe that’s why I can’t get this woman out of my head.
“Go find a fitness model to stroke your ego. And your flaccid dick,” she tells me dismissively. “I’m here to work out.”
My head falls back with laughter. “Taylor, you know damn well there’s nothing flaccid about my dick.”
“When’s the wedding?”
I raise an eyebrow in confusion. “What wedding?”
She nods to my crotch. “Between you and your dick, seeing as you love it so much.”
My lips quirk. “I’m not sure you’re invited, seeing as how you blocked me.”
“Aww, did I bruise your ego?” Taylor mocks.
“You did.” I solemnly nod. “Seems only fair I get to bruise something of yours in return.” I cast my eyes to the delicate column of her throat. “How’s your gag reflex?”
“I’m a projectile vomiter,” she says primly.
My lips lift at the corners. “Makes sense, considering you’re a squirter.”
“Go away, little fuckboy,” she says in a bored tone.
I grab the bar with one hand and easily lift it; alright, so I might be trying to impress this woman. Because, dammit, nothing’s worked so far. “Come on. I’ll spot you.”
“This is the only way you’ll ever get me on my back,” Taylor taunts, lying down on the bench press.
I chuckle, moving the bar into position. “Aww, now man-eater, don’t be so vanilla.” With a woman like Taylor, on her back would be the last position I’d choose. On her knees, being the first. I’d make her submit, and she’d fucking hate every second of it…
“Either count, or shut up,” she barks at me, lifting the bar.
“One. Two….” How’s a man supposed to count with Taylor’s nipples poking out of that barely there sports bra and my dick trying to poke out of my mesh gym shorts? “Ten.”
“That was eleven,” Taylor says between her teeth.
“Eleven. Give me one more,” I coax, my voice sounding strained, and I’m not the one lifting.
Her arms begin trembling, but she pushes through as I help guide the bar up.
“Good gir—I mean job. Good job.” I load the bar on the rack before offering Taylor a hand up.
Taylor
Ignoring Gavin’s hand, I sit up while praying he doesn’t notice my pebbled nipples. I should really start wearing a sweatshirt in this gym, lest Gavin thinks he’s somehow responsible.
Which he’s fucking not. It’s drafty in this old building, that’s all.
“Gavin!” A drop-dead gorgeous woman calls. “Could you help me with this machine?”
“Excuse me, man-eater. Duty calls.” Gavin winks at me before taking off.
“Enjoy the ego stroking,” I call after him, a feeling simmering below the surface that I’d rather not analyze.
I finish my workout, ignoring Gavin, even though I can feel the man’s eyes on me.
Crossing the gym, I find Kat on the treadmill where I left her, walking at a snail’s pace. “You didn’t even break a sweat,” I tell her, wiping my own sweaty brow with a towel.
“Hey, you told me to do my own thing, so I did! Ready for brunch?” She hits the stop button and hops down from the machine.
“Yes, but I need a shower first, seeing as I actually worked out,” I tease her.
“Bully for you,” Kat says.
We walk to the locker room and grab our bags.
“I’ll meet you outside,” Kat tells me, and I nod.
Taking a quick shower, I towel off and throw on a dress and sandals. My wet hair gets piled on top of my head, and when I step out and through the gym, I can feel Gavin’s eyes on me.
What game is this man playing?
No, the real question is why I keep letting him push my buttons…
“It must be exhausting living in that head of yours.” Gavin appears at the door, holding it open for me.
You have no idea.
Ignoring him, I step outside, but the man follows me like a bad credit score, which I am so not thinking about right now. “I lead with my brain instead of my sexual organs. You should try it sometime.”
“Real-ly? And that brain led you into a situationship, I mean a relationship, with a straight woman. Interesting.”
Don’t let him push your buttons. Don’t let him push your buttons.
“Bye, Gavin,” I say in a bored tone.
He grins, the gold rings around his gray eyes sparkling in the sunshine. “See you around, man-eater.” He heads in the opposite direction from where Kat and I parked.
“Let’s not and say we did,” I call after him.
I stop at Kat’s car and peek inside, but no Kat. Calling her, I wait for a beat, but she doesn’t answer. Pressing end, I send her a text.
Where the hell are you? Brunch, remember?
Hours pass with me wearing a hole in my living room rug, pacing back and forth. And that’s after searching the gym, the parking lot, and the side streets. Hell, I even stopped by Kat’s condo and her mother’s bakery. All without luck.
I call Kat again. For like the hundredth time.
“Hey girl—”
“Not, hey girl!” I shriek. “What the hell? You disappeared, and I swear to God, I thought someone kidnapped you!”
“Sorry I bailed on you; there was a situation I had to deal with,” she says vaguely. “I owe you brunch and mimosas next time.”
“You owe me more than brunch and booze. I was this close to calling the cops and reporting you missing!”
“Taylor, I’m so sorry. I was dealing with a family emergency, and there was no time to let you know what was up.”
“Everything alright?” I don’t typically pry about her family, being that her cousin Darius is hooked up with the mob, but this is an exception.
“Yeah. I just had to run to Newark to keep an eye on Iris,” she says, referring to Darius’ new stepdaughter.
“Why? Darius get into some kind of shit?”
“No,” she says hesitantly.
“Kat, you know you can talk to me,” I assure her.
“Thanks, but there’s nothing to talk about.”
“I don’t like this,” I tell her. “You’ve been acting sketchy just as your ex Dominic gets back in town.
You disappear with a mystery guy for the weekend.
” The last phone convo we had, she was down the shore, and no way she was by herself.
“And now, you bail on me because of a secret family emergency.”
“When you put it that way, it does sound bad,” she jokes.
“You sure everything’s alright?”
“I promise I’m good. Look, I’ve got to go.” She hangs up.
My bestie’s keeping secrets.
Pot, meet kettle.