Chapter 22

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Kayden

''Come on, lover boy. Show me what you got.''

''Fucking trying,'' I mumble, purposely ignoring the snide remarks he's been throwing at me since I got off the phone with Bella.

Damn. I'm getting my ass kicked right now. I haven't played in so long, I'm rusty as hell.

I swear I used to be good at this.

''What happened to you, man? This is embarrassing.'' He sniggers.

''Excuse me for being too busy running a multi-million dollar company to work on my Black Ops skills,'' I heave back.

''Hey, I run my shit as well. You don't see me using that as an excuse, do you?''

He's right. I am off my fucking game tonight. I seriously need to lax some energy.

''You up for a workout downstairs?'' I question, pressing one of the controllers knobs to put a pause to the game.

Josh turns to me. ''Gym's open?'' 

I nod. I'll just get the key from the reception if it isn't.

He shrugs, putting his own device down on my off-white sofa. ''Let's go then,'' I knew he'd never turn down a workout. The guy's a freaking beast through his trainings. He could go the entire day without even so much as a break.

''Let me get changed real quick.'' He came straight from his gym so he's set in his Nike gear. I swiftly change into the first basketball shorts and short sleeve tee I find laying around in my closet and make my way back to my living room.

Joshua is ducked down, tying his sneakers lases by the front door by the time I make it there, fully dressed and two water bottles in hand.

''Ready to sweat all that amped-up sexual frustration away?'' he grins as if he won some lottery.

''Shut the fuck up.'' I aim one of the bottles at his head and take a lob, but he catches it in his palms with a lampooning snicker.

Each of my muscles taut as one and I feel sweat constructing over my forehead as I try to keep the weight of the bench press stable, directly above me.

Kind of hard when you're arms feel like Jell-O.

I'm a jittery mess and I don't have a fucking clue what to do about it.

Good thing Josh is behind the bench, keeping me steady and pulling the load off of me to  place it in the holder above my head as I groan in frustration at the hasty skittish senses surrounding my limbs.

''Okay, seriously. What the fuck is up with you?'' he gripes, as mystified as I am. I could usually lift 300 in my sleep, but almost broke an arm on a 250 lbs. load. I would have, wasn't Joshua right behind me.

I keep my head on the leather seat as I close my eyes, panting like I just ran a marathon. ''I don't know. My heads someplace else.'' I grumble.

''Clearly,'' he huffs. ''Somethin' you wanna talk about?''

''I almost asked her out.'' I blurt without a second thought, eyes still shut and head still resting on the hard surface of the bench.

''Who?''

''Before. With the phone call,'' I sit back up, feet on either side of the machinery. ''I almost asked her out. Like a date, Joshua. What the fuck?''

He strolls over so he's in front of me. He hands me a towel and I dab it over my face. ''And what about it?'' he queries.

''Are you kidding me? I can't ask her out.'' I stress.

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