My Remedy (Open Door Love Story Book 3) by Stacey Wallace Benefiel

not the only one with a history of backroom hookups and one-nighters. Duncan has never been much of a relationship guy, but he swears he hasn’t really been a player either. More, he just hadn’t gotten serious with anyone.
    I can’t say the same. I used to always want the guys I slept with to love me and want to be my boyfriend. The accident that left Gabe Riley paralyzed sure cured me of that notion.
    “Hey, Cera, what’s up with you showing off your goods to my brother and his girlfriend and not letting me in on that?”
    “Hector, you’re such a gentleman. Seriously.” She rolls her eyes, but then she goes over to the counter to show Hector her tattoo.
    “I think something is going on with them,” Duncan says, leaving me to ponder that realization while he grabs a protein bar from his gym bag.
    It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if there was something going on. Cera’s cool and Hector ... is Duncan’s brother. Okay, okay, I’m warming up to him some. It’s not for me to say if Cera’s into the machismo thing. For all I know, Hector could be a real sweetheart underneath all the euphemisms and innuendoes.
    Duncan hands me a vanilla protein bar. “Sorry, we ate all the chocolate ones.”
    I tear into the bar, not caring that it mostly tastes like sweetened cardboard. We’ve been trying to eat cleaner and consume less carbs, which has resulted in the both of us eating protein bars like they were candy.
    “Whoa, remind me to never let you skip breakfast again,” Duncan says, when I’ve finished the bar in three bites.
    I smile and hand him the wrapper.
    He stuffs it in his pocket. “Want to work on pull-ups today before we head to the meeting? If you’re going to compete at Takedown in September, you’re going to have to be solid on pull-ups and have at least one Muscle-up.”
    I get to my feet slowly, and this time I’m not light-headed. “Sounds good.”
    Duncan tosses a purple band – there are these giant rubber bands we use for stretching and also to help with pull-ups, they come in various colors and widths – over the top of my favorite pull-up bar and loops it through itself into a knot.
    I grab a box from over by the wall and place it to the right of the band. I’ve almost got pull-ups without a band, I just need the slightest bit of help – truthfully, it might all be in my head and I’m using the band as a security blanket.
    Up on the box, I pull the loop of the band down and put my right foot in it. I position my hands on the bar and then hang from it, straightening out my leg in the band. I swing my legs out to get some momentum going and then pull myself up until my chin is over the bar. I lower myself down and then do it again. My goal is to do this ten times in a row, but I have to quit after seven.
    “You’re getting much better. You just need to work on your kipping more.”
    Kipping is the motion you do to get the momentum to swing up.
    Duncan jumps and takes hold of the bar next to me. “I think you’re relying on your legs too much. It’s all in the shoulders.” He demonstrates, bringing his shoulders forward and then pushing them back a couple of times to get going before he pulls himself up. He drops from the bar. “Try again and I’ll pay more attention to your form this time. I may have been focused on checking out your ass for the last five minutes.”
    “Way to go, coach,” I say, although technically he’s not really coaching me anymore. Our contractual obligations have concluded, so it’s perfectly fine for him to admit to checking out my ass boyfriend-style.
    “Hey, you two,” Hector says, walking around the counter. “I’m going to run to the bank. I shouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes. Please, please be careful and don’t do anything crazy. Duncan, if you leave, lock up, okay?”
    “Sure. Bye,” Duncan says.
    “See ya later,” I say.
    Hector leaves.
    “I wonder where he’s really going?” Duncan asks. “He didn’t take the