“I remember the gym from when I first transferred to Pitt from community college. It used to be small and has moved once already?”

“Yep.” He smiled with barely disguised pride. “That was when it was just me. When I finished school with a useless degree and a washed-up D-1 career in baseball, I didn’t know what to do. My shoulder’s pretty much done with, not even the minors would take a look, so I rented this basement shithole and started buying used equipment, got some cheap insurance and opened. People liked my music and the Pitt spirit around, so it grew fast. I moved to the spot we are in now after about two years, and then I bought the building next door after a while, making more room for locker rooms and shit.”

“Sounds like you may have some of the brains too.” Why I felt compelled to compliment him, I wasn’t sure.

“And you, all lawyer and legs?”

“What?” I choked out, shocked at his blatant flirting.

“You got one hell of a pair of legs. Couldn’t help but notice when we first met, and a few weeks ago when you had those leggings on . . . wow! Legs for days.”

Heat crept up my cheeks. Since I’m so fair, I imagined my cheeks were a rosy pink well on their way to fire-engine red. Thankful for the darkness hiding my silly embarrassment, I stuttered, “I-I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

“Having long legs? Or me noticing.” Jake turned slightly to face me, his expression curious.

“Either. Both.” Nervously, I wound my hair around my hand, knotting it in a bun at the base of my neck. Refusing to meet his gaze, I watched him from the corner of my eye.

“Sorry to interrupt this much more interesting conversation, but where in Oakland?”

“You know the small convenience store near the museum?”

He nodded.

“Right behind it, one street back. In fact, you can drop me at the museum.”

“Not a chance,” he huffed out. “Now, back to your legs. What’s wrong with long legs?”

I turned and studied his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat with each word, and strangely wanted to run my hand over his skin, maybe kiss his neck.

Blinking a few times to force the fantasy out of my head, I found myself admitting, “I grew up pretty poor, a tall, gangly redhead who tagged along with my mom to her jobs. She was a cleaning woman for the rich, and their little girls were always petite and small. I was neither, but I wanted to be.”

I’d never really spoken about my past with anyone. Drew knew I came from limited means, but didn’t know the details of my life growing up. I typically kept that in a tightly sealed box inside my heart. My throat tightened again, this time with tears.

Jake shot a wry glance my way. “Well, shit, I’d like to see those petite little girls now. They’re probably all round and plump.”

Surprisingly, I laughed. Actually, I burst out into a full-on fit of laughter, which was something I’d never done when wallowing in the memories of my childhood.

“Please!” I begged him, holding my stomach

“I’d know. I own gyms. Believe me, long legs are an asset.”

“Okay, enough,” I said, trying to compose myself. “You shouldn’t even be looking.”

“Why?”

“Well, you asked me not to mention it, but the way we met, and well, if I recall, you were protecting another woman. One who you were involved with . . . Um, take a right here.”

I breathed out a sigh of relief that we were close to my place, and the end of this strangely comfortable, yet awkward ride.

I pointed up ahead. “There, over there. First building on the left.”

“Here?” He raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not much, I know, but I’ve been here since law school and it’s home.”

A tear welled up in the corner of my eye. I should have taken the bus and not let this man drive me home in his BMW and see the dilapidated building I called home. It’s affordable and warm. What else do you need?

“It has cable,” I said weakly, feeling strangely compelled to defend my home.

“Hey.” He grabbed my arm as I yanked at the door handle, trying to slip out of the car. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that it’s not safe. It’s dark and there are no outside lights, and I just saw someone go through the front door without a key or being buzzed in. I wouldn’t judge you on this,” he said, gesturing toward the run-down apartment building.

“Thanks for the ride and saying that, but I’ve got to go.” Acutely embarrassed, I wrenched my elbow free and opened the car door.

“Alyson?”

Climbing out of the car, I froze, but refused to look back at him. “Yeah?”

“The girl I was protecting isn’t around anymore, so is it okay for me to like your legs? And the body and brain attached to them?”

“Good night, Mr. Wrigley.” After slamming the car door, I turned and ran toward my apartment.

Jake

“What’s the holdup with the construction?” Lane had asked me at the bar earlier tonight, swirling the ice in his drink so the cubes clinked against the glass. He’d taken a big swallow, a small moan escaping his lips when he released the tumbler from his lips.

“The fuck I know? The guy’s a crap contractor, costing me money.”

He’d chuckled into his glass.

“What the hell?” I had leaned forward, catching his gaze.

“I just like seeing you all serious about your business. Almost as much as I’m loving this Scotch. Christ, this is good.”

“You miss the booze when you’re home?”

“Nah. Not even one bit. I got my beautiful wife and baby . . . my naked beautiful wife. It’s a small price to pay to have Bess in my life. She tells me it’s okay to keep a bottle for myself. Tells me she’d be fine, but it’s not worth it. She’s so strong in her recovery, and that’s enough reason for me, bro.”

He slapped me on the back and returned to the real reason for his visit. “Enough about me. How about you? I see your head is way out of your ass when it comes to the gym expansion, but you know Bess. She wants to know if you’re forgiving yourself for past demons? It’s time, Jake.”

“I don’t know. I feel good, almost normal sometimes. But then I get so pissed off that Shirley is just living her life. She was the adult there that day. She was the one who put that all on us to keep what I did a secret. It just doesn’t seem fair.”

“Gotta let it go, man. We looked into it, the statute’s up. She can’t be tried for it now. And you know, she’s got a shitty life.”

“That’s what my shrink says,” I said in a low voice, leaning in close when I mentioned my dirty secret. “You two talking?”

Shaking his head, he raised his hand to signal for a refill. I’d been absently watching his finger circle in the air when I caught a flash of red hair walking out of the bar.

“Hold that thought,” I’d said, then jumped up to chase the mysterious vixen of my dreams through the bar.

“Alyson!” I’d called out until she finally turned around, and I forgot all about Lane.

I ended up driving her home, and now like a twisted dick, I waited inside my luxury car while she ran up her front steps and into her crappy apartment building. The woman was an attorney, for God’s sake, and she lived in a college tenement. What the fuck was I missing?

I’d gone to school at Pitt for four years and owned a gym in the area for over a decade, and I’d never known anyone who lived over here in this ghetto. Lane had some posh on-campus suite for four years, thanks to his academic prowess, and I’d lived in athletic housing. Who the hell lived in this shit? Especially after law school?

Staring at the building, I waited for one of the apartment lights to turn on so I could see which unit was hers and be somewhat assured that she was home safely. Suddenly, one came on in the front. As I shifted my car into gear, I realized she lived on the second floor, too close to the entrance and only one flight up. In a piece-of-shit building like that, it was probably dark and desolate in the hallways. Anyone could break in and do . . . I didn’t know what. Bad shit like rape and muggings.