Adare returned to the gym just as Benny finished knocking one of the punching bags off the ceiling. Good. Anticipation rippled through his veins, inciting the need to hit. “You want to spar?”

Benny partially turned, sweat forming a V down his shirt. “Sure, but why aren’t you with Grace?”

Adare ducked his head and charged, hitting Benny mid-center and lifting him up before slamming him down on the mat.

Benny landed on his back and struck up, rolling away and flipping sideways to his feet. “Okay, then. You really want to spar.” Using his teeth, he tore the tape off his hands, his eyes glittering. “Let’s do this right.” He toed off his boots. “No boots. I don’t want you to wear my tread for the next week.”

Adare grinned, letting his fangs drop. “Fair enough.” He reached down and pulled his boots off, tossing them over his shoulder. The second he let them fly, Benny kicked, nailing him beneath the jaw. Stars exploded in his head, and he stumbled back, dropping to one knee and sweeping out of pure instinct.

Benny back-flipped, landing easily on the mat. “So. Where’s Grace?”

Adare went full out, hitting and dodging, while catching Benny up on the news of the day. Benny asked questions, made comments, and showed no mercy with his strikes.

After two hours, they were both bleeding and bruised, flat on their backs, coughing and wincing. It was the best Adare had felt in weeks.

Benny hacked up a lung and groaned. “Man, I feel good. You?”

“Much better.” Adare sent healing cells to his skull, which had been split into two or maybe three parts. “I appreciate the sparring.”

“Me too,” Benny said, stretching his legs out. A bone popped back into place, and he sucked in air. “That was a great kick, by the way.”

“Your left has gotten stronger. I think you broke my eye socket.” Adare sent healing cells to his socket.

“Gee. Thanks.” Benny panted heavily, staring up at the high ceiling. “Maybe if you admitted you loved her, then her cells wouldn’t eat yours.”

Adare winced as his broken fingers slowly mended. “I don’t love her.”

“Well, you at least like her. I mean, you’ve surrounded yourself with her photographs for years, and it’s not because you’ve always had an appreciation for the arts. Right?”

“I like her art.” Okay, maybe he liked what he saw in her photographs. Her. She was insightful and kind, strong and adventurous. And a calculating liar who’d deceived him. “She’s not who I thought.”

Benny chuckled, the sound slightly pained. “Right. She pulled one over on you.” He kicked out a foot and rolled his ankle. “That only makes you want her more. I know you, Highlander. Have for centuries. You can fool yourself, but you can’t fool me.”