Chapter 8
GrahamAlexa’s gym was a twenty-minute drive from home. I passed two other major gym chains, including one where I already had a membership, on my way.
None of that mattered.
Her gym was where I’d been working out for the past couple of weeks—even though it meant getting up a half hour earlier.
I braced my hands on my knees and slid to a faux standing position on the leg press machine. My eyes fixed on the door to the studio.
Half an hour ago, a buzzing hive of about fifteen women followed Alexa into the wood-floored side room. The schedule at the front desk said she’d be teaching a hybrid pilates and yoga class for another fifteen minutes.
I lowered back into a pseudo-squat and then pressed up again. After my set, I moved over to the lateral pulldown machine to work my back
