“Thank you, Mikey,” I said, flashing him a genuine smile. “It is very nice of him. Especially since you guys know how bad things with the gym have been lately.”
“Is it still tough?” Steel asked with a pained expression on his face.
I nodded. “It is. And it’s not getting better. Even after closing down the two suburban locations, it’s still a struggle.” I let out a heavy breath. ”I’ve even been thinking about throwing in the towel and doing something else entirely.”
I heard Nick gasp beside me.
“Like what?” Porter said, his brows pinched together tightly.
“I’ve actually been looking at going back to college to study psychology.”
“Oh wow, you’d be great at that,” Stirling said enthusiastically.
“Yeah, you definitely would,” Steel said with an encouraging nod.
I even heard a quiet, but firm, deffers from Nick.
“Well, if there’s anything we can do to help…” Porter said.
“Oh, believe me, you have. You alone, Porter, have given me twenty years of material,” I said joyfully as the guys erupted in laughter around me.
Porter gave me the finger and steered the conversation in another direction. His.
I sank back into the chair, feeling relieved. I’d survived telling them about Liam. Even though they had some slight reservations about him, I didn’t. I knew he was a good guy.
And I’d told them about possibly closing the gym so that I could go back to school. Well, I’d told them I was thinking of studying psychology at least.
There was another thing I had been studying for the last year and a half, but there was no way in the world I was going to tell them about that.
Chapter Six
LIAM
“Holy sweet Jesus, mother of motherfucking fuckballs, he is hot,” Parker said, fanning himself down as he scrolled through my social media feed.
“So you approve then?” I said with a laugh.
“I one thousand percent approve. This is genius, Liam.”
“How so?” I asked, turning to face the mirror in my dressing room as I adjusted my hair.
I just couldn’t seem to get the almost-but-not-quite three and a half inches to sit right. It kept flopping down, but I'd be damned if I was going to use hairspray to lift it back up. I ran my fingers through it, and settled on a raised, messy look.
It was an art exhibition after all, not the local media awards.
"Well," Parker began. "You look the way you do. Sweet, innocent, boy next door, disproportionately huge ass. That's you, that's your brand."
I rolled my eyes, but he either didn't see it, or he simply chose to ignore it.
"Whereas this slab of man meat...does he have a name?"
I scoffed. "Of course he has a name. Everyone has a name, Parker."
"Well, what is it?" he said testily. "It's not something boring or nerdy, is it?"
"You mean like Parker?" I joked.
"Parker is strong, sharp, and conveys both intelligence and good social standing."
"Let me guess, the testing told you that?"
He scrunched up his nose at me and tapped his fingers against his arm.
"His name, Liam?"
"His name is Hudson," I said, turning to put my coat on.
"Fucking perfect," Parker said, his face overtaken by a wide smile. "So you're you...and he's this big, tattooed brickhouse of muscle. The bad boy. The alpha. The powertop. Hudson."
He pretended to be swept off his feet as he said his name and fell into the empty chair.
"You're making a lot of assumptions there," I said, straightening my coat and taking a final look at myself in the mirror.
"I am," Parker said. "And with any luck, all of Daylesford will be making the same assumptions as well. Now before you go…" He got to his feet as he walked me to the door. "It would be really, really good if we got a kiss in front of the cameras."
"Uh, Parker, I don't know…"
"Not just for Mrs. Langley," he interrupted. "But for the promotion."
"You think it will really make a difference?" I still wasn't convinced.
Parker placed his hands on my shoulders and said definitively, "Yes, it will help you. Trust me. I mean, if I could kiss him for you, I totally would."
I half smiled. "You really think he's that hot?"
"Let me put it to you like this: I am a total top. Always have been, always will be. But I would bottom so hard, as if my life depended on it, for that man. He is that fucking hot."
Well, that was quite the ringing endorsement.
"Anyway," Parker said, straightening his shoulders. "The limo is downstairs and waiting, so go on, scoot."
"You ordered a limousine?" I asked, shaking my head.
"Hey, if you want to be a superstar, you gotta look the part."
I kept my face blank as I said goodbye, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of being right.
Twenty minutes later, the limousine pulled up in front of a nice-looking house in one of Daylesford's most exclusive suburbs. The door opened before I could get out, and Hudson, all six-foot-six of him, got into the limo beside me.
"Hey," I said excitedly. The sight of him instantly perked me up and managed to drown out all of Parker's well-intentioned advice, which was still running through my mind. "You look great."
He did. He was wearing dark denim jeans, a crisp white shirt that clung to his chest and pecs wickedly, a smart navy blazer, and a pair of black leather shoes.
"Thanks," Hudson said casually, but a smile tugged at the edges of his lips. "You don't look so bad yourself."
The man looked good in workout gear, but sporting this smart casual look, I could certainly see what got Parker so worked up and considering becoming a vers. Hudson might have been one of the few men who actually looked better with more clothes on.
Although, would it be so bad to see him with all his clothes...off?
As the driver pulled away, I grabbed the small handheld mirror from the backseat and fussed with my hair again. It did need to be up. That was what the studio wanted. It was what the testing had revealed to be most popular.
"Are you okay?" Hudson asked, picking up on my agitation.
If it were up to me, I'd shave my whole damn head like he had. I really wasn't into superficial things like the length of my freaking hair, but I knew it had to be done. It only mattered to me because it would help me get that promotion.
"Hey, hey, hey," Hudson said as he gently grabbed my arm to stop me from picking at my hair like a deranged seagull. "What's the matter, Liam?"
I threw the mirror away. I couldn't believe it, but I was fighting back tears.
"Your hair looks fine," Hudson said, his green eyes wide and sincere. "You look amazing just the way you are."
I ignored the fluttering in my heart and looked at him.
"It needs to be higher," I said, not liking the petulant quality in my voice. "Testing says it needs to be higher."
"Testing?” he asked. His brows arched as he studied my face intensely.
"Focus groups, you know?" He nodded, but still looked as confused and concerned as before. "Plus it's in my contract. It's in everyone's contract. All on-air male talent have to have a hair length between three and five inches. We even have a production meeting every Monday to measure our hair."