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“In my defense, I didn’t know she was Terry’s girl until the sweat was dry and I saw the picture on the nightstand. So, really, this is more on her than it is on me. Crap,” I hissed as the door started to push open.

“Get the fuck out of the way, Brock,” Sawyer said, making me step back so he could move inside.

“So you’ve heard,” Tig said.

“That he got horizontal with Terry’s girl? Yeah.”

“Not just horizontal. She’s a former gymnast, did you know that?” I asked, looking between the two of them.

“Probably one of the reasonsTerrypicked her,” Tig said.

“You know you’re going to have to handle this, right?” Sawyer asked, walking over to Tig’s desk to drop a folder. “Terry is here almost daily. You won’t be able to hide forever. Just take your ass-kicking like a man and get it over with.”

“Easy for you to say. I’ve seen Terry at the gym. She out-benches me.”

“Man, you were in black ops type shit for over a decade, and you’re scared of one person?” Sawyer scoffed.

Admittedly, we’d beenthroughsome shit. We’ddonesome gnarly shit.

But that was back then.

I’d done my best to put that shit behind me, to focus on the lighter, more enjoyable parts of life.

Like touring the bedsheets of all the gorgeous women who’d have me.

Sure, I did some dark shit for work still. But that was work, not my personal life.

I didn’t enjoy confrontation anymore.

And I sure as fuck didn’t want to be on the receiving end of yet another pissed-off mate—or former mate—of someone I’d taken to bed. My wrist still ached in the rain from the last fucker who’d tracked me down and caught me off-guard.

“I’m hoping that, after a couple of days to think it over, she will direct her anger in the right direction,” I said, shrugging. “Her cheating girlfriend.”

“And not the office slut,” Sawyer said, smirking.

“Hey, just because I didn’t find the love of my life and hand in my player card for her doesn’t mean you get to judge me.”

“Right. Like you would even know the love of your life if she were right in front of your face,” Tig said, shaking his head.

“Oh shit,” I hissed as the door burst open.

I braced myself for impact.

But it wasn’t Terry who’d barged into Tig’s office to find me.

No.

It was someone I’d never seen before.

A well-dressed guy in his twenties with golden-brown hair and blue eyes, but they were heavy-lidded with purple smudges.

I knew that look.

I’d seen it reflected at me for years when I’d been working a job that was eating away at me. I’d seen it in the faces of countless clients who’d been driven halfway crazy from whatever issue had been plaguing their personal or professional lives.

“Can we help you?” Sawyer asked.

“I’m sorry,” Marg, our receptionist, said, rushing in behind him. “He just barged past me.”


Tags: Jessica Gadziala Romance