Okay, so that was melodramatic… but I would certainly feel like I might combust with shame if I had to fib to my family about Rhys. Probably because they wanted so badly for me to meet someone and fall in love.

I was thirty years old and single, and my parents were worried because I’d been single a while now. Like, a while. A whole lotta while.

Thirteen years.

My stomach lurched at the number.

It sounded worse than it was. I mean, I had dated during those thirteen years. And had lots of sex. Okay, maybe not lots. But I’d had sex. In my quest to feel that spark of chemistry once again, I’d gotten myself a little something-something over the years. Some of it bad. Some of it good. All of it… just… meh.

There was no point in settling down with someone I didn’t spark with. I’d rather be single forever than settle for less than I knew was possible. And I knew what was possible because for a brief, splendid moment in time I’d had something special.

So I kind of gave up, especially while working on my PhD. My career became my entire focus.

Ironic that a relationship was the one thing I needed to advance my career.

Twisty little universe.

Yes, my parents were definitely not going to find out about Rhys. I didn’t want to get their hopes up. Mostly I just didn’t want to lie to them. Not that it wasn’t slightly tempting, considering my younger sister had just gotten engaged. My family wasn’t putting any pressure on me, but I felt it anyway.

Ugh, societal pressures were the emotional equivalent of a black hole. No matter a person’s obstinate refusal to bend to them, every single one of us got sucked in somehow. Boo to black holes!

Speaking of… I slowed to a stop outside the gym on Fourth. It was a red-brick, seventies-style building, three-stories with tinted brown glass windows and a flat roof. Well-maintained greenery, grass and hedges, grew along the edges. But there was something drab about the building; the signage above the door was peeling.

“Here goes nothing,” I muttered to myself as I got off the bike and padlocked it to the railings by the entrance.

For the past few nights I’d spent my free time writing up a contract for Rhys to sign. Every time I thought I’d finished it, I’d think of something new. Hopefully, he’d sign the thing with no arguments.

That wasn’t entirely honest of me. The butterflies in my belly demonstrated there was a part of me that didn’t want Rhys to sign the contract at all. Part of me wanted him to tell me he’d changed his mind.

There was no reception area, so I strolled across the glass-fronted atrium and through double doors that led into the ground-floor space. This was the gym. Considering it was a Saturday afternoon, it wasn’t as busy as it should have been. Sure, there were people there, working out, but every machine in the room should have been in use and wasn’t. As I took in the peeling paint on the walls, some aging workout equipment, worn workout mats, and a sad little water cooler on either side of the room in lieu of a fancy drink dispenser, I could see for myself why Rhys needed the money. There were no TVs for people to watch during their workouts. They were stuck with the music pumping out of the PA system unless they brought their own headphones to drown it out.

The gym was run-down. It needed sprucing up to be brought into the twenty-first century. Curiosity still lingered over where his earnings from boxing had disappeared to, but it was none of my business. All that mattered was that Fairchild liked Rhys and Rhys would keep me on the boss’s radar long enough for me to get a permanent position.

The contract in my hand trembled a little as I tried to contain my nerves.

“Can I help you?”

I turned toward the masculine voice and found myself face-to-face with a beautiful man. The blood beneath my cheeks grew hot as I stared into dark chocolate eyes framed by the longest lashes I’d ever seen on a guy. He had warm, tawny skin and a head full of thick, jet-black hair. When he smiled, two incredible dimples popped in either cheek.

Dreamy bedroom eyes, ahoy there!

“Do you speak?”

I flushed and laughed at my ridiculousness. “Yes, I have been known to produce speech.”

The man’s eyes danced with laughter. “Good to know. I’m Carlos. Can I help?”

I glanced down at the contract in my hand before being compelled to look into Carlos’s eyes again. Seriously, I thought Rhys had beautiful eyes, but this guy could give him a run for his money. “I’m here to see Rhys Morgan. He’s expecting me.”

Carlos grinned. “Are you Parker?”

“That’s me.”

He held out his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m a trainer here.”

Carlos’s hand was calloused and strong. It was very nice to touch. I returned his smile. “You too.”

“This way.” He indicated with his head toward the left. Carlos led me out of the main gym into a small hall that housed an elevator and a stairwell. “He’s on the second floor where the boxing gym is.”

We took the stairs, and I followed the trainer into a space similar to downstairs except half of it was taken up by two boxing rings. There was a class being taught in the clear side of the space, and as we walked past, I recognized the martial art as capoeira. Interesting. I wondered if Rhys knew capoeira. That would be a sight to see.

At the sound of Rhys’s familiar, booming voice, my eyes flew in his direction. He was standing outside one of the boxing rings, shouting instructions at two young men who wore nothing but long shorts and boxing gear.

My gaze drifted down Rhys’s back. My lower belly fluttered.

It was just nerves.

The guy was an intimidating specimen. So tall. Much taller than Carlos who I put at around five foot ten. Even that was tall for me. I only stood at five foot two. Hence why I’d put a “No Tinker Bell” clause in the contract for Rhys.

Rude!

Unless I’d misread his reasons for calling me that. Tink was loyal and adorably feisty.

But that was beside the point.

My eyes glanced off the well-developed muscles revealed by the basketball tank Rhys wore and the way his joggers cupped his firm, high, and very muscular ass. There wasn’t an inch of fat on the guy.

“Rhys. Company!” Carlos yelled as we approached.

The man himself turned around, and I felt the breath expel from my body as his intense gaze drank me in. As he took in my low-heeled T-bar shoes, pleated pale blue skirt, and black Ted Baker shirt with its little jeweled bow tie, a frown deepened between his brows. I didn’t care what he thought of my appearance. I thought I looked cute. That’s all that mattered. It’s not as if I thought much of his appearance.

Okay, so I could admit that he was attractive in that caveman, overtly masculine, alpha-male kind of way that some women found appealing.

I wasn’t one of them.

I was above that sort of primal need for power and strength in my chosen mate.

At least I was determined to be.

A guy had to be funny and thoughtful above anything else. Plus, I liked my men short and cute. Not intimidating and so tall they’d have to lift me up to kiss me.

An image of Rhys doing just that flashed through my mind and I expelled it with such force, I almost said the word “blech” out loud.

Sure enough, Rhys frowned as we drew to a halt in front of him. “You okay, Tinker Bell? Does boxing offend your fragile sensibilities?”