Hot Pickle - J.J. Knight Page 0,55

to hang out the whole time.”

“Yeah. I get the sense he was all alone last time. I’m sure he’ll be glad to have company.”

My memory flashes to our hot and heavy make-out session in the room with the chairs.

“I bet he will.”

“Good thing we’re back at the same level.”

“Seems like he was a good influence on you.”

Franklin drops the bottle to the floor. “Hardly. I’m the one who got him started.”

Apparently, Franklin’s planning to take credit for everything.

“Time to spray,” I say. “Maybe Max needs some bodybuilding friends.”

“He’s got a hell of a surprise coming tonight. I think we’ll have the whole gym coming to see us compete.”

I turn to him. “Really?”

“Buster’s putting us on the banner over the gym door.”

“Instead of the MMA fighters? You’re replacing the McClures?”

Franklin rocks back on his heels. “We sure are. Buster’s even paying for tickets for everyone to go. That sort of makes the gym a sponsor. Damn.” He rubs his hands together. “I should get a logo for my bag. Or a shirt or something.”

I have to hold back from rolling my eyes. Franklin’s always had a chip on his shoulder that he’s never had a sponsor. He thinks it’s the mark of having “made it.”

“Good for you. I’m ready for you if you want to step over here.”

Franklin heads into the tent and turns to face me. “What do you think of Max? You must be getting to know him with all the tans he’s had to do.”

My throat constricts. Keep it cool, Camryn. “He’s polite. I can see why you were friends in college.”

Franklin laughs. “Too bad he’s stuck running that crappy deli.”

My ire rises, but I stuff it down. “I’ve eaten there. It seemed all right.”

“It’s no five-star restaurant.”

“Here comes the spray,” I tell him, mostly to make him shut his mouth.

I run the spray over him quickly and evenly. I’m not feeling particularly charitable about him, but I do my usual good job.

“Turn around.”

When I finish, he steps out to dry under the fan, and I make sure I’m calm before I approach him again.

“I guess I’ll probably mostly hang out with Camille,” I say. I’m realizing it might not be a good idea for Max to be around me while Franklin is there.

My brother might see right through us. There are a million tiny things we could do to give ourselves away. Glances. Easy touches.

Franklin picks up on these things easily. He’s always on the prowl to make sure men aren’t looking at me too long or standing too close. Max will do both of those things.

“That’s cool,” he says. “Maybe we can grab lunch together between the prejudging and the evening show.”

Right. Because we always do that.

But I simply say, “Sure.”

I drag the stool out to the middle of the tarp. “Let me do your face real quick, so you have a base coat.”

He’s mostly quiet while I apply a light layer of tan to his face, ears, and neck.

But when I step away, I can tell he’s been holding something inside for a while.

“If you were seeing Max, you’d tell me, right?” His dark eyes pierce mine.

Wow. He’s hitting it head-on.

“You know I’ve sworn off bodybuilders.” And that’s not a lie.

But sometimes even when you swear something, it happens anyway.

“I guess you heard Malachi dropped out of the circuit entirely.”

My belly drops at the mention of the evil ex’s name. “No, I wasn’t aware.” I blocked Malachi on every social media, and I either unfriended or unfollowed anybody close to him so news wouldn’t accidentally trickle my way.

Still, I scan the rosters of the open meets, so I won’t be caught unaware if he shows up. I hadn’t seen him this year, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t competing somewhere.

And despite not wanting to know his whereabouts, I have to ask. “Does anybody know why?”

Franklin laughs. “Probably got fat.”

“How do you know he dropped out? He doesn’t usually compete at these lower-level competitions we do.”

Franklin stands up and heads to his shoes. “I have my ways. I keep an eye on that jerk. He’s not signed up for anything in the L.A. area this year.”

“Just as well.”

“If he ever comes near you again…”

I hold up a hand. “Enough. It’s been over a year. I’m over it.”

Which isn’t true.

Or is it?

I haven’t thought of Malachi since I met Max.

“Well, I’ll bust his ass, or anybody’s ass who lays a hand on you. There isn’t a bodybuilder on this planet worth your time.”

“Sure. Okay.” I’ve learned not