At an ungodly hour the next morning, I was jogging on a treadmill while waiting for my subject to grace the gym with his presence. And I was sweating up a storm.

It was a good thing the long sleeve shirt I had paired with my leggings wicked away sweat because I definitely needed it. The blonde pageboy wig that hid my natural hair was hotter than hell. I had added fake red-framed glasses to help distract from my face but due to the perspiration on my nose they kept slipping down.

With the back of my hand, I swiped under the frames while I used reflection from the wall of mirrors in front of me to scout out the gym. The weight equipment was positioned directly across from where I ran but there were only a few super buff guys working out. No Dr. Kean Bennett.

Ten minutes ticked by on the treadmill’s digital display and still no doctor appeared. Adjusting my wig, I continued my pace when a man wearing a Yankees baseball cap stepped onto the treadmill next to the one I was melting on. The brim of his hat hid his face as he looked down and adjusted the settings on the control panel in front of him.

Thanks to the dark red muscle shirt he was sporting, his beautifully built arms were on display for my viewing pleasure. Forgetting my sweat issue, I found myself momentarily distracted. I tried hard not to objectify him because it was something I had seen Melany do to men a hundred thousand times before but I was failing.

Like always, thoughts of Melany brought negativity to my space.

Last night, I had stepped out of the bathroom to discover four missed calls complete with just as many voicemails from her. Listening to the first one, I grew instantly aggravated when her excited voice spilled from the speaker.

“Hi Ciaran, it’s Melany. I thought I would call and let you know I’m having a fabulous time with your future uncle Chris. He agreed your bikini looks so much better on me than it would on you. Of course, it wasn’t a surprise because we all know I have the body for it. I’m not quite sure why you bought it. You should stick to those one-piece suits. They suit your boyish frame much better. Your mistake was definitely my gain. I looked so good in it some man hit on me while Chris was at the bar getting us drinks. I was smart enough to get his phone number when he offered it. You know, just in case Chris doesn’t work out. Look at me planning for the future.”

Completely disgusted I hit the end call button and asked myself for the millionth time what I did to deserve her in my life. It was bad enough she was referring to Chris as my future uncle. It brought on distressing flashbacks of being forced to call strange men family when they were the farthest thing from being a relative as possible. And each one was quickly followed by guilt. Every time Melany’s flings discovered she was only using them, they broke up with her. This led to bouts of crying fits as she informed me I was the reason why they left. All those years of hearing how men didn’t want to be saddled with an already-made kid took their toll. I suffered with deep self-condemnation issues because I believed every word she vomited. It wasn’t until a high school counselor explained it wasn’t my fault my so-called mother had relationship issues that I finally began to let some of it go.

A deep cough sounded from the treadmill next to mine, yanking me from the memories I was drowning in. Utilizing the mirror’s reflection, I glanced at the solid muscles running beside me. I couldn’t make out the man’s expression from under the shadowed brim of his baseball cap, but I got the unnerving feeling I was being watched.

I blinked a couple of times to clear my head as I took in the thick dark scruff that peppered his masculine jaw. It was such a nice change from Stuart’s hairless face. My conscience immediately told me it was wrong to compare Stuart to this stranger but I couldn’t help it.

Sweet, amiable, polite Stuart.

No, the guy next to me with the powerful thighs that flexed as they hit each stride didn’t appear the least bit sweet. He moved with a confidence that was erotic. It was almost dirty. There was no way I could see Stuart moving the same way. I didn’t even want to try and picture it.

My mouth stretched into a closed lip grin as I thought it over when the Yankees hat tilted at an angle revealing glowing green orbs.

I lost my footing and stumbled. Thankfully, the safety bar across the front of the machine saved my face from hitting the bottom of the treadmill. Flushing red, I looked back into the mirror and was relieved to find Dr. Bennett looking down at the console in front of him.

I wasn’t sure what move to make next. Should I stay and try to strike up a casual conversation or do I throw in the towel and leave? My uncertainty frazzled my mental state causing my thoughts to become unglued.

The brim of the hat tilted again as Dr. Bennett met my concerned gaze through the reflection. It set off a torrent of emotions within my chest. It felt like his eyes were stripping me bare, in front of the room full of men working out, and all the dirty secrets from my childhood were being broadcasted for everyone to hear. I felt my cheeks heat as blood rushed to my face. The urge to hide away from Dr. Bennett was so strong I knew I needed to escape.

Slapping the palm of my hand on the stop button, my treadmill powered down.

Before the belt stopped moving underneath my purple running shoes, I jumped off it in preparation to bolt into the locker room.

Which would have left me feeling much more secure, had I not glanced into the wall of mirrors one last time and seen Dr. Bennett’s eyes narrow as they observed my hasty retreat.