Free The Wild One (Forever Wild #3) by Magan Vernon

Three Days Later
     
    Mrs. Flowers was a screamer and not in the good way.
    “I can’t do it, it’s too damn hard,” she said in her two-packs-a-day scratchy voice.
    “Come on, ma’am, just one more rep,” I said, trying my hardest not to groan as I bent over her. The lady huffed and puffed over the smallest little bit of exercise. I should have known the woman probably never worked out a day in her life and her idea of weight lifting was picking up her pack of Virginia Slims.
    She groaned, pushing up the bar with a ton of help from me just to get it back on th e bench. She sat up, wiping the non-existent sweat off her forehead before grabbing her water bottle from the side of her bench.
    When Valerie made up the story about me being a personal trainer I didn’t actually think the ol d broad secretary would call me, nor did I think she would be married to some rich old dude who lived in one of the nicest places I’d ever been in. As soon as I stepped into the apartment building in my cut-off shirt and gym shorts I thought they’d escort my ass out. That was, until Mrs. Flowers appeared at the front desk wearing some pink velour sweat suit and carrying a fluffy purse dog. It was surreal. I just hoped she wasn’t trying to use me as some sort of gigolo; I had enough of those propositions in Vegas.
    Luckily she really did buy that I was a person al trainer and not the dude who got drunk and married her co-worker in Vegas.
    “So, when should I expect you for another sessio n, Wesley?” Mrs. Flowers asked breathlessly, toweling the back of her neck before she stood up.
    “Well, I guess we can set something up,” I said with some hesitation. The divorce papers were dropped off by some dude just yesterday. As soon as I signed those suckers I knew Valerie would throw my ass out. She probably couldn’t wait for me to l eave. At first I thought she might have been sort of into me. The way she bit her lip and actually got nervous when I kissed her neck ...but then that douchey business guy showed up and I could tell she was into him. Girls get turned on by huge bank accounts. Why the hell would she want to stay with her Vegas mistake when she has Mr. Suit and Tie banging on her door?
    “Good,” Mrs. Flowers said, pulling out a wad of cash from her sports bra and dropping the sweaty bills in my hand. It made me feel like a high-price call boy. Even though I’d done a lot worse for a lot less money.
    “I’ll text ya, babe,” she said with a wink and blew a kiss before grabbing her water bottle and towel and shuffling out of the expansive workout room. These Chicago broads were just getting weirder and weirder.
     
    ***
     
    Valerie’s bitchy- ass roommate Paige said she didn’t trust me enough to give me a key to their apartment, so I still had to knock every time I wanted in. I just hoped Val was actually at home and I didn’t have to deal with Paige.
    Valerie had a meeting with a client that morning but she was supposed to be home. Paige acted like her job was important but really she worked at some  high-end makeup place on Michigan Avenue and did eye shadow stuff on old ladies who paid her a shit-ton of money for a bunch of powder. It was nuts.
    When I got to the front door I knocked softly. It was the right thing to do. I should have just opened it and proved th at I had some right to be there. But I really was Val’s husband by mistake, as she called me. So I really only had as much right as she gave me.
    No answer.
    Shit.
    I hoped someone was home or I wasn’t sure what I’d do. Probably go for a run or something.
    I knocked again and that’s when I heard it. It started as a whisper and then it got louder; the faint mumblings like someone was talking. No. Not talking. Crying.
    I turned the handle and it gave way, so I slowly opened the door. The apartment wasn’t that big and as soon as I opened the doo r I was in the living room. On the couch, looking at me, was Paige’s cat, Dexter. He jumped off