"That's how I know she's good for you. Right there," he claims.

I ignore him.

He continues, "Did you ever wonder why none of those other women were right for you?"

The speed on the track moves faster. Hating my past, I accuse, "Do you honestly think I haven't asked myself a thousand times how my personal life became a joke?"

"Not a joke, bro," he declares.

"Easy for you to say."

"Okay, get past your ego for a minute."

"Not in the mood for your insults," I hurl.

He steps in front of my machine and crosses his arms. He watches me for a few moments and then adds, "Those women were all blood-sucking snobs."

"Tell me something I don't know, Alexander," I bark, then the incline adjusts, and I move into a slow jog.

He shakes his head. "If you knew it, then why did you continue falling for them?"

"Can we change the subject?" I ask.

He ignores my request. "Georgia isn't like them."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"So you finally got it right."

My little brother's self-proclaimed relationship expertise gets on my last nerve. I blurt out, "You don't even know her to be able to state that."

He arches his eyebrows. "So she's not the one for you but you're marrying her?"

Flustered, I claim, "I never said that."

"Oh, right. You said I don't know her enough to say you finally got it right," he replies.

"Congratulations, you can hear," I sneer and pick up my pace.

Alexander snorts, adding, "I saw enough. You've met your match, bro. It's about time."

Still unsure how he's claiming this when he just met Georgia, I say nothing.

"She's not a woman who'll just sit back and let you walk all over her," he states.

"You're making me rethink marrying her. It sounds like my life will be full of headaches and blue balls," I mutter.

He chuckles. "A bit. But it'll also be interesting. She'll keep you on your toes. That's the type of woman you want to grow old with."

"How would you know?" I accuse, then regret it the minute his face falls. I quickly apologize. "Sorry."

His face hardens. He grinds his molars, then announces, "I'm going to shower. See you at breakfast."

"Alexander," I call after him, knowing I crossed the line, but the door slams.

"Shit!" I shout, then hit the button to run faster, trying to work out my frustration and guilty feelings.

It doesn't work. My thoughts return to Georgia, and no matter what I do, I can't get the way her body felt under mine or how her tongue flicked in my mouth, out of my mind.

Mason and Jagger eventually enter the gym, but I'm not in the mood for conversation. I leave, creep into the bedroom, and stare at Georgia sleeping.

She's too beautiful for her own good.

Love. Ugh. How can she be so naive?