Chapter 150 (1/2)

“What time are you leaving?” she asks while picking at a bowl of lettuce.

“Not until tomorrow, if that’s okay. Or do you want me out now?” I fill a mug with the black liquid and turn to face her.

“Of course you can stay.” She grins. “As long as you aren’t being an asshole to Tessa.”

“Actually, I’m not.” I roll my eyes as Vance enters the room. “You need to get a tighter leash on this one, perhaps even a muzzle,” I tell him.

A deep bellowing laugh comes from her fiancé just as Kimberly raises her middle finger to me.

“So classy,” I taunt her.

“You’re in an awfully cheery mood.” Christian grins wickedly, and Kimberly shoots him a glare.

What the hell is that about?

“Wonder why that is?” he adds, and she elbows him.

“Christian . . .” she scolds, and he shakes his head. His hand lifts in defense to block her from repeating the playful assault.

“Probably because he’s missed Tessa,” Kimberly suggests and eyes Christian as he circles around the oversized island to grab a banana from the fruit basket.

His eyes twinkle in amusement as he pulls down the peel of a banana. “I heard midnight workouts will do that.”

My blood turns cold. “What did you say?”

“Calm down . . . he shut the camera off before the good stuff,” Kimberly assures me.

Camera?

Fuck. Of fucking course this asshole would have a camera in his gym . . . Hell, every main access room is probably equipped with security cameras. He’s always been more paranoid behind that slick demeanor than he lets on.

“What did you see?” I growl, trying to keep my pulsing anger at bay.

“Nothing. Only that Tessa came into the room; he knew better than to continue . . .” Kimberly bites back a grin, and relief floods through me. I was too caught up in the moment, caught up in Tessa, to think about shit like security cams.

I scowl at Vance. “Why were you even watching the footage? That’s pretty fucking creepy that you were watching me work out.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I was checking the kitchen monitor, because it had a short; the gym just happened to be playing alongside it at the time.”

“Sure,” I say, stretching the word out.

“Hardin’s staying another night; that’s fine, right?” Kim asks him.

“Of course it’s fine. I don’t know why your ass isn’t here to stay anyway. You know I’ll pay you more than Bolthouse.”

“You didn’t the first time—that was the problem,” I remind him with a smug grin.