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My spine stiffens. “Saw?”

“The property?” he chuckles. “What else did you think I was talking about?” He takes another drink of his water, still smirking. Asshole.

I glare at him with a huff. “It was beautiful. I like the pond, and the ducks are cute.”

“I agree.” He nods. “Saint feeds them every day.”

“He does?” I ask, caught off guard. Saint does not seem like the kind of guy who would go down to the pond just to feed the ducks.

“Someone has to.” He shrugs. “I’m almost done working out. Want to join me? Then we can go inside, and I’ll make you breakfast.”

I want to say fuck no, that me and working out don’t go together, but those are not the words that come out of my mouth.

“Sure.”

He looks surprised. As if he didn’t expect me to agree.

Stepping around him, I can finally take a deep breath. Breathing deeply, I calm myself, trying to get my damn libido to chill the fuck out while looking around the room. Okay, what is the easiest thing I can do?

“What's that?” I ask, pointing to the thing that looks like a bike.

“That’s a stationary bike.”

“Like those things people use in spin class?”

“What the fuck is spin class?” Maverick’s brows furrow.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I saw it on a TV show,” I answer with a snort.

“Have you ever been in a gym before?” he asks as I make my way over to the bike.

“I have.” I shoot him a glare.

“Must have been before we came back, because I’ve never seen you in a gym,” he chuckles.

“You know, making casual comments like that just proves how creepy you all have been,” I point out, climbing onto the bike. “Do you have any shame?”

“No,” Maverick responds with a straight face, moving over to a machine where he starts doing pull-ups.

How the hell does he do that? That core strength is impressive as hell. I can guarantee you I wouldn’t be able to lift myself an inch off the ground.

“At least the honesty is refreshing,” I mutter to myself as I press random buttons, having no idea what I’m doing as I put my feet on the pedals and move them forward in a circular motion. I manage to pedal a few times before I start to feel the burn in my legs. Ouch.

“I’m sorry we kept things from you,” he grunts as he pulls himself up. “But that’s over now. You want to know something, we’ll tell you.”

“Oh really?” I ask. “Fine. Did you put a tracker in my neck?”

“No.” He sounds like he’s telling the truth.

A wave of relief settles over me.

“That would have been Shepherd.”

My eyes snap up to his, widening. “That mother fucking asshole.”

“You already know about the cameras."

“I wish I didn’t.” I glare at him, and the fucker just smirks.