How to Destroy a Rich Boy

Chapter Two

With a tired sigh, I flung open the doors to the gym and made my way inside. I glanced around at the empty exercise machines, and the corners of my lips pricked up into a smile.

  Excellent, I had the place to myself.

This gym was the poshest one in town, and I loved it. One of the perks of working here was that they granted you with a free membership. I usually came here on nights such as these, as I knew there wasn't going to be many people around. 

Wasting no time, I immediately made a bee-line for the boxing room. I couldn't wait to dig my fists into a nice warm punching bag. Kickboxing was my favorite way to unwind, and boy did I need it after the horrors I went through tonight.

Stupid, stuck up, arse-touching bastard. 

You think someone at least twenty years my senior would know better but apparently not.

Upon reaching the door to my area of the gym, I paused. 

The light in the room was on, and I could hear the occasional grunting sound, indicating someone was hitting hard at a punching bag. 

Fan-fucking-tastic looks like my dreams of being alone had been utterly ruined. 

Not wanting to face social interaction, I was about to turn around but a sound made me stop.

 "Ow, ow, fuck," I heard a voice cry out in pain. 

A giggle escaped my lips, instantly recognizing the familiar voice. What was that idiot doing here at this hour? I twisted open the door with a smile and walked in. 

As expected, a sweaty, shirtless tanned boy lay slung out on the ground while cradling a gloveless hand up to his chest. I walked over to him with a chuckle as he continued to mumble profanities underneath his breath. 

Stopping by his head, I put my hands on my hips and looked down at my idiot friend. His eyes were closed, but upon my arrival, he peeked open one eye. He sighed when he realized it was just me and closed it again. 

"Oh, thank God, I thought I embarrassed myself in front of your hot manager or someone important," he mumbled.

 "Uh," I gasped before kicking him with my heel. "I am very important, thank you very much," I snapped. 

 "Hmm," he hummed unconvincingly.

 "Brandon, what are you even doing here? I thought you'd be back at our apartment," I asked in confusion.

 With a tired grunt, he pulled himself up into a sitting position before running a hand through his sweaty brown hair. He gave me a big toothy grin. "I wanted to hang out with my bestie," he sang.

 I gave him a blank stare as if to silently say, I wasn't born yesterday. 

He raised his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, fine, maybe I came here to peep at your manager as well," he said with the roll of his eyes. 

I chuckled and kicked off my heels before throwing myself down onto the floor next to him. "Typical," I drawled. "I've known you my whole life, yet I still somehow rank lower than my fucking  manager," I snorted, shaking my head at him.

"Glad you know where you stand," he winked. 

My jaw dropped open, which only made him grin harder, his shoulders starting to shake. "Geeze, I'm kidding, I'm kidding," he laughed. 

Brandon reached out and grabbed my hand before giving it a gentle squeeze. "Of course, you rank higher than anyone in my life, Soph," he smiled. 

"As do you," I said, returning his smile.