Page 61 of His Reckoning

“Thanks,” she says, grabbing her water bottle.

“You’re leaving already?”

“I just remembered something I need to do.”

“That sounds suspicious.”

“Writers have chaotic schedules.”

Before I can respond, she grabs her water from the table and heads for the door. Halfway there, she pauses, glances back, and for a second, our eyes meet again. Then she disappears into the hallway.

The door closes, and the gym goes quiet.

I stand here for another moment because I have absolutely no idea why Kayla just fled the room like that.

I finish the rest of my workout alone, which should make it easier to concentrate. Instead, my focus keeps drifting back to the exact moment Kayla abruptly decided she needed to leave the room.

One minute, she was lifting weights, and the next, she was halfway out the door like the gym had caught fire.

I rack the last weight and grab a towel. Something about the whole interaction feels unfinished. I wipe the sweat from the back of my neck and head down the hallway toward the kitchen.

The penthouse is quiet until I step inside the kitchen. Kayla is sitting at the island with her laptop open and her fingers moving across the keyboard at a speed that suggests something important is happening.

She hasn’t noticed me yet. It gives me a moment to watch. Her brow is slightly furrowed. Her attention completely locked on the screen.

She pauses for half a second, then keeps typing almost aggressively.

Interesting.

I walk over to the refrigerator and grab a bottle of water. The sound finally pulls her attention up.

Her fingers stop mid-sentence.

“Oh,” she says.

“Working late again?” I ask.

She shrugs. “Inspiration strikes when it strikes.”

I nod toward the laptop. “I wonder what caused the inspiration,” I say casually.

Her fingers stop again. This time, she slowly looks up, and the look she gives me is very deliberate.

Her gaze drifts downward. I watch her take in my shoulders, my arms, and the fact that I’m still in workout clothes.

Then she looks back up again. It’s quick, subtle even, but unmistakable. Out of nowhere, a very inconvenient thought pushes its way into my head.

The scene I accidentally read in her book earlier flashes back immediately. Where the hero corners the heroine. The one that was … very detailed.

My jaw tightens slightly. Kayla’s attention returns to the laptop.

But I’m not looking at the screen anymore. I’m looking at her because the timing is suddenly very interesting.

“You left the gym in a hurry,” I say.

“I remembered something.”

“That something appears to be a chapter.”