Page 32 of Theirs to Hunt

I smile as the elevator doors close.

I pull out my phone and fire off a quick message to Brooks.

She's baiting me.

Told you she was the one.

Chapter twenty-seven

Reagan, Thursday 05:30 p.m.

Iwalk back into the little gym near my apartment and scan the room. No sign of Rain.

Stashing my things, I head straight for the treadmills and pick one in the back corner, where I can observe without drawing attention. To warm up, I start a brisk walk. I don’t know how long I’ll be here.

Ten minutes in, I spot her. Gym Barbie. Same one from before. Paper-thin white leggings, no underwear. With the sunlight hitting just right, she’s basically the opening act at a planetarium.

I sigh. I’m a girls’ girl, so I prep to warn her, even though I don’t like her, before some poor guy earns a PhD in astronomy. But then I catch her checking herself out in the mirror. Fine. Whatever. But when she sees me watching, she quirks a brow with a sneer and a sniff.

“Screw her,” I mutter, mostly to myself.

A voice rumbles beside me, close enough to feel in my ribs. “Who are we screwing, Bambi?”

I nearly levitate off the treadmill. Rain. I was so distracted by Barbie’s Uranus I didn’t even notice him walk in.

“I’m going to need you to wear a bell,” I mutter, hand pressed to my chest.

“And ruin all my stealth training? Not a chance.”

I glance sideways. “You always sneak up on women at the gym?”

“Only the ones muttering about astronomy and threats of violence.”

I snort. “She earned it. She’s a menace in mesh.”

He hops onto the treadmill beside me, doesn’t start it. Just leans his forearms on the console.

“So, what’s today? Endurance? Rage cardio?”

“Mostly spying,” I admit. “And maybe waiting to see if the hot guy from the other day was real or a gym mirage.”

He chuckles low. “Glad to disappoint.”

“You never told me your actual name. Or is Rain your mysterious gym alias?”

“Close. It’s Reign. With an e-i-g-n.”

I blink. “Like royalty?”

He leans in, grin sharp. “Or control.”

My pulse stutters. “Well, that’s... subtle.”

“I didn’t get it for being subtle.”

“Okay, now you have to tell me where that came from.”

He shrugs and wipes his forehead with the hem of his shirt. Rude. Because now I can’t remember what I asked.