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gym and not one near their homes. It used to bother me until Liam told me to capitalize on it, saying he said he didn’t care and that it was good for business. Harrison is impartial, and JD likes the attention. In fact, I think he, out of the three of them, gets a total kick out of flirting with the women here. I’ve told him to be kind, that they’re likely to get hurt when he winks at them, but he doesn’t listen. You’d never know he’s happily married with a year-old baby at home.
    He’s all talk and no action.
    Hell, action is what I wanted last night, and I have a feeling Yvie would’ve been a willing player. But I’m not like that, and I shouldn’t be with her. Even if she weren’t Harrison’s sister, she’s only here for a week or so and the last thing I want is to start a relationship with someone who lives in a different state. Long distance love affairs and a business like mine just don’t mix. If I allowed myself to, I can see being very attached to Yvie. She has some of the qualities that I look for in a woman: she takes care of her body, she’s funny, sexy and can hold my attention fully. She’s a dangerous combination for me right now, and it’s probably best that I keep my distance, keep our budding relationship strictly professional.
    I have a feeling that keeping my distance is going to be an issue though. Yvie is going to be at every party and every function I attend in the next few days. I could just stay home. Avoidance has worked in the past. Except, I won’t have a valid excuse when the guys, or even wives, come calling to ask why I’m not there. I’ve been invited, I’ve RSVP’d and it’s not like I have all these offers from people asking me to share the holidays with them.
    Staying out of Katelyn’s kitchen is a must though. Memories from last night are
    very present and each time I start to think about Yvie, I can see her caged against the counter with soap suds on her nose, her chest rising and falling with every breath she takes as her eyes pierce mine, her pink tongue wetting her lips in anticipation. All I had to do was let my head fall and she would’ve caught me. I could be sitting here blissed out from kissing her. Instead, I’m in the gym sporting a freaking semi and there isn’t jack shit I can do it about it because as far as I’m concerned Yvie James is off limits.
    I busy myself behind the computer instead of mingling with the patrons. The
    counter provides for great coverage of my issue but does nothing to keep my mind from wandering back to last night. I should’ve told Quinn “no thanks” when he invited me in, and I should’ve left as soon as they went to bed. Oh, and the massage definitely shouldn’t have happened, but I couldn’t resist the pull to touch her. I had to curb my appetite from earlier. Watching her work on her glutes, a section of her body that doesn’t need work, drove me nuts, and I had no reason to touch her.
    Last night she gave me every reason in the world, and I started to take advantage.
    I didn’t want to stop, but it wasn’t the time or the place to explore my ballerina . . . my what? She can’t be my anything.
    “What’s up, mate? You look bloody knackered. Did your willy keep you busy last
    night?” I look up to find JD resting on the counter with a shit-eating grin on his face.
    Being friends with JD means you can’t take him seriously. At least not all the time because he likes to joke. And by joke, I mean make crude comments at the most
    inopportune time. That’s what makes him unique.
    “Morning, JD,” I say, without acknowledging the rest of his statement.
    “A mate who avoids another mate’s question is a surefire way of telling said mate that he got a little last night.”
    “He better not have, unless it was after he left my house.” As soon as Harrison
    finishes that sentence, I look away as my body temperature changes. I hate that I blush like a little boy. My mom assured me I’d outgrow it, but