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If I keep telling myself that, I might even start to believe it.

The tragic truth is I got myself off twice before I managed to sleep last night, and still woke this morning with a hard cock and a bad mood.

I hit the bag again. It swings back fast, and I have to catch it against my shoulder.

It’s not like I couldn’t find someone else if I wanted to. That’s never been a problem before. So why can’t I get Briony Sinclair out of my head?

I push away from the bag and lift my gloves to go again.

“You trying to kill that thing?”

I glance towards the voice. Niamh is crossing the mats from the changing rooms. She looks horribly fresh for somebody who was still in a bar when I left last night. Bright-eyed. Smug. Practically skipping, in fact.

“You’re in a good mood,” I say.

“Last night was a good night. Exactly what I needed. Let’s just say the ladies’ toilets saw more action than they were designed for.”

Fucking hell. Talk about rubbing salt in the wound.

“I didnae need to know that.”

Niamh sits on a bench and starts on her hand wraps. “Me and Emmy are gonnae meet up again. For a date.”

“Good for you.”

“Aye, it is good for me. I really like her. What about you? You fair bolted off when you realised Briony had left.”

I close my eyes and rest my forehead against the leather of the bag. “I was going home anyway.”

“Mm-hmm. And did anything happen when you got home?”

“Naw.”

She scoffs. “I’ve known you since you were fourteen, Ry. I can tell when you’re lying, even when you’re hiding your face in a punchbag. I’m surprised, though. Don’t get me wrong, she’s cute, but I’d have thought she was too sweet for you.”

I pull off my gloves, grab my water bottle, and join her on the bench. Means we can talk without the whole gym hearing.

I take a long drink, then admit, “We kissed outside her door. And…things got a bit heated.”

Her eyebrows lift. “Aye?” She glances towards the bag I’ve been taking my frustration out on, then back at me. “Didnae finish?” she guesses.

I glower at her over my water bottle. She grins.

“She stopped it. Said it was a mistake.” I screw the lid back on.

“Ah. So you’re in a strop because a woman finally turned you down.”

“I’m no in a strop.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“I’m not. At least, I’m not upset she said no. That’s fine. It’s…” I remember the way she looked at me afterwards. “It’s that she thinks she’s too good for me. And that pisses me off.”

“Did she actually say that?”

“Naw, but she didnae need to. The look she gave me⁠—”

“Ah.” Niamh gives me a look of her own. “The look.”