The journey to the foyer in the elevator is excruciating. She constantly reaches for her ponytail, adjusting it, thrusting her boobs forward in that tight vest.

“Stretch,” I order when we make it into the fresh morning air, extending my quadricep. The sky is clear, the sun low, the air crisp. Beautiful. I inhale, filling my lungs with air and my mind with positivity. It’ll be all right. She’ll come around when she’s got used to what I’ve told her. I feel her watching me, and I peek out the corner of my eye. She’s grinning. “Ava, stretch.”

She huffs, puffs, and makes a meal of expressing her irritation, bending at the waist and pushing her gorgeous backside out. Right in my face. I scowl at the firm, lycra covered flesh and clamp my teeth into her right arse cheek, biting down. She yelps, startled. So I slap it too, and she swings around, outraged. Her look is pure filth. I tilt my head, daring her to challenge me. She doesn’t, her face softening. She’s learning. “Where are we running?” she asks over a sigh, pulling her foot to her bum.

“The Royal Parks. Ready?”

She nods, seeming quite accepting, surprisingly. Then I see her walk to my car, and I laugh on the inside, going the opposite way to the gates.

“Where are you going?” she calls.

“For a run.” My smile widens as I look back, seeing the penny drop. Her face. I have to stop myself fishing out my phone and capturing the sight.

“Urh . . .” She clears her throat. Straightens her back. “How far is it to the parks?”

“Four miles.”

She starts coughing, and I start falling apart on the inside, my earlier troubles fading with each second I’m watching her failing to play it cool. She rearranges her top, and my eyes light up as she paces over.

“It’s eleven, twenty-seven, fifteen,” I say as I press the code for the gate. “For future reference.”

She jogs off, and I grin at her arse as she goes. “I’ll never remember that,” she yells back. I roll my eyes, going after her. And there we have the proof, if ever I needed it, which I don’t, that she purposely challenges me. She’ll remember that number.

I fall into stride next to her, peeking down, checking for any early signs of how this is going to pan out. I won’t tell her I’m one gear off a walk. That would be cruel. So instead of taking my calm from pounding the pavements, I take my calm from having her beside me. Constantly checking me out. Constantly smiling up at me.

It’s another new form of bliss and, unlucky for Ava, I might decide I need this every morning. My mind is clearing, Jake is no longer haunting my thoughts, playing with my conscience, and my heart is beating steady and strong.