Page 32 of Hate It with You

“Wanna try?” I ask.

A short laugh escapes her. “Oh no, I’m not much of a fighter.”

I level her with a look. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Words I have no problem with. It’s the physical fighting that I…” Something dark crosses her features again. Something similar to the look she had on her face when she opened the box in her bookshop a few weeks ago.

Her training might be more important than I initially thought.

Grabbing a pair of gloves off the edge of the ring, I hold them out to her. “C’mon. What’s one punch going to hurt?” I keep my voice as casual as I can, so as not to scare the flight risk that stands before me.

She looks like she’s about to take me up on my offer before her shoulders slump and she shakes her head. “I’m tired. I think I’m going to head out for the night. Thank you for staying open late for me.”

When she turns to walk away, I say the only thing I can think of. “It’s a good skill to have.” She stops in her tracks. “Self-defense, I mean.”

Turning back toward me, with scrunched eyebrows and her mouth forming a tight line, she asks, “What makes you think I’d be interested in self-defense lessons?”

“It’s a good skill for any woman to have, isn’t it?” I pat myself on the back for my quick thinking. If I know Beth, the moment she finds out that I know about the notes, she’ll run out of here, and I’ll never see her again.

She relaxes, and the corners of her mouth upturn. I breathe out at the sight. “That’s true.”

“You’re right, it is late. Why don’t we meet back here at, let’s say, seven o’clock tomorrow? I can teach you a few moves.”

“You? Don’t you have another trainer?” I try not to look offended by her question.

“No, but at least this way, you’re getting the best trainer in town.”

“Ha!” She pointedly laughs. “I doubt that.”

Her bratty attitude boils my blood while simultaneously blood rushes to my cock once again. Fed up with the back-and-forth, I lower my voice, taking a small step closer to her, conveying how serious I am about the subject.

“Be here. Seven o’clock, or I’ll go over there and kidnap you myself.”

Beth takes another step toward me, our bodies now only inches apart. She challenges my height by staring me directly in the eyes, her blue irises lit by the lights hanging above us. “I’d like to see you try.”

I barely catch the hint of a smile on her lips before she pushes past me toward the back door of the gym. Running a hand down my face, I calm myself before following her. I allow for some distance between us, ensuring she’s already in her apartment before I head up to mine.

I fall asleep replaying the sound of my name on her lips, the same way I heard it through the window this morning. It’s the best I’ve slept in months.

14

BETH

I’m not an idiot. Alex was there when I opened the surprise mail from my stalker. I’ve never been good at hiding my emotions, my face always giving me away. I’m sure Alex saw whatever fear was showing in my eyes. If he didn’t, he probably took note of my shaking hands when I read the letter that accompanied the teddy bear.

What surprised me was that when I opened my bookstore the next day, my trash had already been taken out. I assumed Alex would lock up given his lecture on locking my doors, but I wasn’t expecting him to do anything else. I can only assume he looked inside the box I threw away.

I haven’t received a package since then, but I’m not so naive as to think another one isn’t on its way to me.

That’s the only thing that has me considering Alex’s offer to join him for training today. When I was at his gym last night, I was impressed by the variety of equipment. I was also pissed that his suggestion to work out actually helped release some of the tension my muscles have been holding on to.

It felt good to move my body again and clear my mind. That is, until he brought up self-defense lessons. It’s almost as if he saw my search history. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was watching that too.

As I stand by the front desk of my bookstore, the cameras watch as I rearrange the bookmarks in their display, getting ready to open. I know Alex watches me through them, checking up on me throughout the day, given the number of “live” recordings on the camera app, but I’ve gotten used to it.

If anything, I’m starting to find comfort in someone watching over me.

Alex told me to meet him today at seven. It’s currently 7:05. I’m dressed for training, but I still haven’t worked up enough courage to make my way next door. A small part of me is calling his bluff on his threat of kidnapping me.