“Yeah, a few times,” I tell him. “Seems to be liking Florida East.”
“Course she is.” I can hear his grin. “Finally got all she ever wanted.”
“I guess so,” I mutter. “You get your candy for Halloween yet?” I chuckle. “I know you live for that shit.”
“You know I did,” he answers quickly. “Your mom was tryin’ to cheap out on the candy this year. Said we wouldn’t have as many kids trick-or-treating.”
“So, naturally, you went and bought more.” I grin. I know my dad, Jaxon Hardy, all too well.
“Hell yes, I did. I reckon we’ll have over one hundred this year.”
Even though the town I grew up in, where my parents still live, is small, they always get a shit ton of trick-or-treaters. Mom and Dad would leave a huge box on the front step when they took me and Mila house to house, and when we got back, it’d be damn near empty. Now, my dad keeps a notebook and a pen. And he keeps track of every one of those little bastards who rings the doorbell to know exactly how many trick-or-treaters have come to our house. He even gets bags of chips and full-sized candy bars for the kids who are his favorites.
“Coach is making us do some trunk-or-treat shit, where kids walk around trick-or-treating from the backs of people’s vehicles.” I tip my head back against the headrest. “As much as I don’t want to do it, I have to. Layla’s gonna help me with it. You know I ain’t got a clue about what I’m doing when it comes to kids. Or Halloween shit for that matter.”
“Shame you didn’t lock that girl down before Wade did,” he jokes. “She’s a riot. And a damn good girl from what I’ve seen.”
“She’s something all right.” I smile. “I’ve gotta hit the gym for a late-night session. Tell Mom I said hello.”
“I will. Then, she’ll probably start cryin’ about how she misses her kids.” He sighs. “Damn woman is an emotional wreck these days.”
“I bet.” I laugh.
“Nice talkin’ with you, Cam. Check in with your mama this week, please. I’m hoping Mi will too. She misses y’all. Have a good night. Be safe.”
“I will. Bye, Dad.”
Ending the call, I start my truck and pull out of the parking lot. The last thing I want to do right now is work out. I’m already dead tired. But off I go.
Addison
I eye the chocolate chip cookies my mom made earlier as they sit in the kitchen, taunting me. She’s a hell of a baker, which is great to have treats around, but not so good for my waistline.
Since having Isla, my body has changed. My hips are wider, and my butt is fuller. And I notice that everything I eat goes to my waistline.
You don’t need one. You don’t need one. You don’t need one.
“Screw it. I do need one. Heck, I deserve one, damn it,” I murmur and grab a cookie before taking a huge-ass bite. “So worth it,” I practically moan.
I look down at myself in my loose sweatpants and ratty T-shirt in a house that is far too quiet. My parents insisted on taking Isla to a movie. I basically begged to go with them, but they told me no. They used some lame excuse that when I’m around, it takes away from their time with Isla because she’s up my ass the entire time. I suppose they have a point, but I don’t want to hang out alone. I want to be with my daughter. And Tessa is working tonight, leaving me with a heaping pile of cookies and Keeping Up with the Kardashians.
I head to my bedroom, but not before grabbing a second cookie and devouring it embarrassingly fast. I’m just settling in, picking the remote up, when I groan at myself. “Seriously, get off your ass and go get your mojo back.”
Leaping up, I trade my sweatpants and T-shirt for some workout gear. I have hours before Isla will return home to me, so I might as well try to somehow better myself. Working out and running have always helped me keep my mental health in check. I can’t snooze on that now. Besides, it’s getting late, so the gym is probably dead by now. Just how I like it.
I walk into the gym, and just as I suspected, it’s eerily quiet. Technically, I shouldn’t be in this gym because it’s for athletes. But I’m the coach’s daughter, damn it. And the regular gym for plain ol’ students like me closed an hour ago. So, right now, I’m reaping the benefits of my father’s career. Even if he doesn’t know it.
Popping my AirPods in, I head for the treadmill. Adjusting the speed to a comfortable yet challenging pace, I dig in, instantly enjoying the spike of my heartbeat and the sheer layer of sweat that starts to build, letting me know I’m working.
Halsey’s haunting voice screams in my ears as I try to keep my breathing steady. I certainly don’t have the endurance I used to, making getting winded incredibly easy to do. But even so, once a runner, always a runner. And this is sort of my happy zone.
A flash of blue has me turning my head, and when I do, I’m so startled that I lose my balance and start to fall off the piece of equipment. Even as I try my hardest to regain my footing and grab the railing of the treadmill to steady myself, it’s no use.
I never said grace was my strong suit.
Once I know my ass is going down, I prepare myself to fall into a pile on the hard ground by squeezing my eyes shut and holding my arms out to catch me.
Should have stayed home and eaten the damn cookies.
Instead of the cold, hard floor though … I’m embraced by warm, huge arms.
Cracking my eyes open, I peek up at lips as they move. But even in the midst of the chaos, my AirPods never fell out.
Reaching for them, I peel them out.
“Um … what are you doing?” I look up at Cam Hardy. A shirtless Cam Hardy. “Why are you holding on to me like I’m a damn stuffed animal you just won at a county fair?”
His lips twitch. “It was that or let you fall on your ass.” He shrugs. “Figured you’d go for this.”
He smells so good. And forbidden. But good nonetheless. Like sex. And man. And woods. And musk.
And did I mention sex?
“Thanks. I, uh …” I say, starting to scurry from his hold. “I’m going to get back to it. So, if you could try not to scare me half to death again, that would be great.”
“Sorry. I just came from the locker room. I was going to use the treadmill next to you—that’s all, darlin’.” He drawls the words, and I swear my thighs clench from his Southern accent as I watch him lean forward and turn the treadmill off.
As I stand, I brush myself off. “Okay, well …” I wave at the treadmill next to mine. “As you were. Live your life.”
His eyes continue to watch me, an amused look resting on his way-too-perfect face. Nobody can look that good and not have some serious flaws or skeletons in the closet. There’s just no freaking way.
Tearing my attention from him, I pop my earbuds back in and turn the treadmill back on. I am painfully aware of Cam’s presence next to me the entire time. I’m also aware of the fact that he just witnessed me basically fall on my ass, and he likely thinks I’m a nutjob.
From the corner of my eye, I see as he runs for a while before moving on to various other equipment, eventually lifting weights. I try to ignore him and just run for as long as I can. Run until my legs physically can’t take it anymore.