I pushed away from the cold concrete of the wall I’d been leaning against, walked the several feet to the door of the laundry room and opened it. I wasn’t sure why I was playing with additional fire by seeking out the one other woman I should be avoiding, but here I was. Holding out a match while pouring gasoline on the ground. An act that never ended well.

I stood in the doorway and took a moment to appreciate the woman folding towels with her back to me. She hadn’t heard me enter over the noise of the multiple industrial-sized washers and dryers in the room. Her movements were precise without wasting any unnecessary energy. Those khakis hugged her rounded ass quite nicely, and I licked my lips as I imagined a dirty scenario involving that ass, minus the pants and panties, and my hand. I grinned. I bet she’d like a good spanking, and she’d work at getting me hot and bothered enough to want to spank her. Okay, I had to squelch this line of thinking right here and now.

“Geneva!” I shouted to be heard over the din.

She turned with a smile on her face, which quickly faded when she saw me. “What can I do for you?” Her tone was strictly business, cold and professional.

I moved closer so I wouldn’t have to yell. Big mistake. Her scent filled my nostrils, a heady mixture of her shampoo and laundry room detergent. Who’d have figured it’d be a turn-on?

“Any idea where I might find your brother?”

“Did you try the weight room?”

Oops. Like that wouldn’t be the first place I should’ve looked? I cringed slightly, caught with my proverbial pants down. I’d used her brother as an excuse to talk to her, and she saw right through my ruse before I’d even realized myself what I’d been doing.

“Uh, I’ll check there.” I turned on my heel, embarrassed by my transparency.

“Axel.” The concern in her voice turned me back around.

“Yeah?”

“The other night in Chicago—what was it you wanted to tell me about Bria?”

“It’s nothing. Forget I said anything.”

“It’s not nothing if it involves people I love.”

I closed the door and walked across the room, careful to keep the folding table between us. “A week ago, I was getting out of my car, and Bria was there.”

“Here? In this parking garage? She has the nerve to be seen here?”

“No, not here. At my building. She’s still trying to get me to lie for her so Jock will forgive her. She’s taking on an air of desperation.”

“And you’re telling me this why?”

“Never mind. This was a bad idea.”

“No, there’s more, isn’t there?”

“I told her I wouldn’t lie for her, and she said I’d be sorry, that we’d all regret how we’d treated her.”

“Regret?” Geneva dropped the clean towel she’d been folding on the floor but didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m sure it means nothing,” I rushed to add. “She was really drunk.”