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12. Beau

12

BEAU

I scrubbed a hand over my face as I headed down to the gym. I hadn’t opened this morning, Gio had, and the familiar sounds of workout music, the thunk of weights, and the slap of gloves was like a balm.

I’d slept like shit. Mostly thanks to my bad date.

Klara was lovely. She was sexy as hell, successful, easy to talk with.

And I hadn’t felt one speck of interest.

It was the reason I hadn’t asked her out when she’d first given me her number at a party a few weeks back.

Scrubbing a hand over my face, I walked toward my office. I nodded at my trainer, Chris.

But all I could think about was Bell’s face. The way she’d looked at me through the door last night, stricken and hurt.

She tried to hide it, but I’d seen it clearly.

And it had cut.

I was an idiot. Trying to get my mind off one woman by spending time with another. Stupid . It was unfair to both of them.

Then I spotted Bell and slowed.

She was wearing leggings again, and was bent over, cleaning a bench. I couldn’t pull my gaze off her ass.

Karina, one of our regulars, called out to her. The women chatted for a moment, and Karina handed Bell a take-out cup. I watched as she gingerly took a sip, then smiled.

Then she turned a little more and saw me. Her smile evaporated.

I set my shoulders back and approached. “Morning, Karina.”

“Hey there, Beau.” She tossed her braids over her shoulders. “I was just giving Bell one of my world-famous smoothies, now I need to get my workout done, and then head to class.”

“You’re studying?” Bell asked.

Karina nodded. “Hospitality and tourism management.” She tapped the cup in Bell’s hand. “Enjoy all that goodness.”

As the other woman hurried off, I looked at my new employee. “Morning, Bell.”

She nodded, and I saw her glance toward the stairs to my apartment… Like she was waiting for something. Or someone.

“Late night, boss man.” Chris slapped my shoulder as he walked past. “The brunette was stunning , so I don’t blame you.”

“Mind your own business.” I glanced up and saw that Bell was gone.

My date had ended with me dropping Klara home. I hadn’t even kissed her.

Feeling pissed off, I headed for my office.

I paused in the doorway. The papers on my desk were now all in neat piles. I smelled the lingering scent of mangoes. Walking in, I rifled briefly through the paperwork. They were all in order—invoices to be paid, receipts, training notes that I’d written.

I dropped into my chair, and it creaked under my weight. I wanted to find Bell and…

And what, asshole?

My mouth flattened and I opened my laptop. Work . What I needed was to get to work.

Bell and I had a training session later. I’d talk to her then.

I shook my head. The real problem was knowing that Bell being unhappy was what was making me this damn unsettled.

I headed out of my office, checking my watch. It was time for our training session.

I’d barely seen Bell all day. She’d flittered around the gym, working, and avoiding my office like the plague. Last time I’d seen her, she’d been polishing the glass on the room where Shay held her classes.

“Gio, have you seen Bell?”

“Yeah. She was doing stocktake on the cleaning supplies. She’s a good worker.”

With a nod, I headed toward the back room.

“Beau?”

I glanced back.

“Don’t hurt her.” Gio scratched the side of his bald head. “I think she’s been hurt enough.”

“I’m trying to help her.”

“Are you?”

I shot my old friend a look, then went to find Bell.

I found her crouched down in the supply closet, scribbling on a notepad.

“Bellamy?”

She jolted. “Oh, it’s you.”

Her voice was flat, and she didn’t meet my gaze.

“It’s time to train. I’ll meet you in the ring.”

“I’m not finished here—”

“You are now.”

She looked up, a stubborn expression on her face.

“You’re here to train,” I said. “So we train.”

She snapped the notepad closed and stood. “Fine.”

“Good.”

She stomped past me. I watched her disappear into the change room. I reached the ring, and grabbed the focus pads.

A moment later, Bell appeared. She’d switched her Hard Burn shirt for a black tank top, and she had her wraps on her hands. She was carrying her gloves.

She climbed into the ring, again not looking at me.

I sighed. “Bell—”

She shoved her hands into her gloves. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

Right . It seemed talking was not on the agenda.

“Jab, jab, hook,” I ordered.

She hit the pads. Hard.

We settled into our training, and every hit was filled with angry power. We circled the ring. “Let’s mix things up a bit. You do the hits you want.”

Her face sharpened. She came at me with a flurry of hits. Her gloves hit my pads with forceful slaps. I had to use everything I had to get the pads into position in time.

“You’re pissed off.”

Her chest heaved. “No. I’m training.”

She slammed a fist toward my gut. I blocked it.

“Bell, look about Klara—”

Bell whirled and landed more hits. They came so fast I barely blocked them in time.

“I have no desire to hear anything about Klara.” Her voice was clipped. She swung her arms, coming at me again.

I dumped a pad and grabbed her wrist. “Hey—”

“Let me go.” She tried to yank her arm back.

“No.”

Suddenly, she hooked her leg around my ankle. I wasn’t expecting it. I crashed to the ground, bouncing on the mat, but I didn’t let her go. She fell on top of me.

“Let me go.” She squirmed.

I gripped Bell’s hips. “I didn’t sleep with her.”

Pure anger filled her face before she hid it. “It’s none of my business.”

I cupped her cheek. I couldn’t stop myself. “I think it is.”

She went still, not looking at me.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured.

Blue eyes flicked to mine. She yanked her arm free, and I let her go. She pushed to her feet. “It’s none of my business who you fuck, Beau. You can fuck every woman in New Orleans if you want to. I don’t care.”

She climbed out of the ring, and headed for the change rooms.

I stared at the ceiling for a moment. That went well.

I sat up. I wasn’t done.

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