Flirting with the bad boy: A love at the Gym Novel

by Sparling, Amy

  That includes letting Travis crunch his beloved numbers behind the scenes. Travis is more of a people person than me, which is why he’s the better fit to stay manager. He’s wearing khaki dress pants and a button down collared white shirt that’s short sleeved.

  He clears his throat and asks me if there’s anything I need help with, to which I shake my head in a friendly manner and move on.

  I head back to my saving grace, my domain where I feel most alive. I chuckle to myself, thinking about my mama whose southern drawl forever chimes through my ears.

  “Mason, what are you doing trotting off to that motorcycle shop every day? You need to dream big son, get out there and embrace life. Travel, buy property, live a little on the edge.”

  My mama sings the same song and dance all the time, but I take it all in stride because I look forward to getting a weekly cherry or apple pie from her, depending on her mood at the time. Mama loves to bake too, much like Alexa. To them, comfort food and a full belly is the way to a man’s heart.

  I’ve already taken a sprinkling of mama’s advice and put it into action. I bought my own little slice of heaven on the lake where I enjoy panoramic, wall to wall window views of nature in its full glory. I’ve got a dock where a boat, two jet skis and the ultimate bar and outside kitchen awaits me when I go home each night. To me, that’s all I need in life.

  I love to go out on my dock and enjoy a cold brew every now and then, watching the sunset as I wind down and wrap up the day in peaceful serenity. My house might be huge, but all the houses on the lake are huge, and I had to buy one to get the lake access I wanted.

  Living small suits me just fine. I’ve been burned too many times by the outside world. Mama wants me to find a nice girl to settle down with, but I’m not interested in tackling the complexities of the female species right now, possibly ever again. All women seem to do is chew me up and spit me out.

  When I walk back into the garage, Chris is hard at work on the same bike where I left him, a welding mask over his face as sparks fly and a screeching sound fills the air as metal grinds on metal.

  I leave him to his tasks at hand. He can’t hear me anyway, not over his welding gear. I climb under the Harley I’m working on, near the finish line to complete the job and make her shine like a new penny. I grab some screws and a lug wrench to work on tightening the belts of the engine. I get to thinking about my past relationships, ultimately the culprit in my distrust of women in general.

  My first love ended in an epic failure. I really went out on an elaborate limb on that one. The girl got the big ring. I mean the rock on her finger would have put the iceberg that sank the Titanic to shame. That’s back when I was a little less conservative with my trust fund.

  The heat of that romance went a little off the beaten path, going up in a wildfire of flames soon after the engagement. As bitter and resentful as I was about that fiasco, at least I can say she told me the truth before it was too late, and we were tied down to the ‘I do’s’ of marriage life.

  The truth? Well she had told me she couldn’t love a Sharp, and given that was my birth right name, she couldn’t love me.

  What was wrong with a Sharp? I had asked her at the time. She had merely shrugged, looked at me as if I was a pity charity case and told me that I was better off a loner. In retrospect, maybe she was right all along, even though I still curse her to this day. Why the hell would she get involved with me, just to string me along?

  I take a deep breath as I concentrate on the engine of the Harley, running a hand through the unruly mop of brown, wavy hair on top of my head. I scratch my arm just above the sleeves of my tight white t-shirt that’s sweaty and in need of some tender care and fabric softener. I don’t know why I’m suddenly nostalgic, mentally reminiscing about the nightmare relationships that I’ve had that unfortunately still haunt me and shape some aspects of my untrusting personality in my current situation.

  Moving onto the even more gruesome details of my second engagement, thinking back, it was even more over the top than the first one. The ring was bigger, the proposal entailed me getting on bended knee in a pasture at sunset, with the stars twinkling above as my buddy strummed love songs on his guitar in the background.

  At the time, I’d thought she’d be the one to steal my heart forever. As it turns out, she stomped on it and crushed it instead. That engagement ended in enormous, profound heartache that still has me reeling even a couple of years later.

  When I found her in bed with another man, after coming home late one day after work, I decided right then and there that I didn’t have a single second more to waste on this bullshit.

  I’m only twenty-four, and in my opinion, that’s still plenty of time to focus on myself and do some soul-searching for what I really want to get out of life. For now, women harbor no place in my mind, and I’m done with dating for the foreseeable future.

  I find my thrills in other ways, and as I finish installing the new bike part and crank up the Harley’s brand new engine, that adrenaline rush I crave like a drug surges through me.

  Chris swipes up his welding helmet and grins at me as I sit on the bike, revving in the engine while I holler with glee.

  The shop is where I belong, where I’m in a zone of happiness. There’s no doubt about it.

  Click here to get The Right Move on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited!

  Also by Amy sparling

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  The Team Loco Series

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  Ella’s Twisted Senior Year

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  Sweets High Romance Series

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  About the Author

  Amy Sparling is the bestselling author of books for teens and the teens at heart. She lives on the coast of Texas with her family, her spoiled rotten pets, and a huge pile of books. She graduated with a degree in English and has worked at a bookstore, coffee shop, and a fashion boutique. Her fashion skills aren't the best, but luckily she turned her love of coffee and books into a writing career that means she can work in her pajamas. Her favorite things are coffee, book boyfriends, and Netflix binges.

  She's always loved reading books from R. L. Stine's Fear Street series, to The Baby Sitter's Club series by Ann, Martin, and of course, Twilight. She started writing her own books in 2010 and now publishes several books a year. Amy loves getting messages from her readers and responds to every single one! Connect with her on one of the links below.