CHAPTER EIGHT
The hot, dank air smelled of sweat and testosterone as Mia stepped into the gym. River had been right. The long, narrow room was only for the serious weightlifter. There wasn’t a cardio machine in sight. There were various machines and free weights scattered over dusty mats, and the walls were covered with mirrors. The sound of several beefy men grunting and weights clanking echoed through the giant room.
“You’re not here to lift,” the older woman behind the front counter noted, studying her from head to toe. “Let me guess. You want to buy a gift for your honey?”
She pointed to a display case, showing various items such as Vinnie’s tank tops, koozies, and lifting gloves. But Mia shook her head. “No, actually, I’m looking for someone. Bronson Shu?”
She grinned. “You mean B
