Damien grabbed his iced coffee and followed, whistling. "This is better than reality TV. I swear, if you burst into the gym shouting about ligaments and betrayal, I will film it."
Alexander didn't slow down. "Someone has to be the voice of reason."
"Yeah, but usually the voice of reason doesn't sound quite so *possessive* when discussing someone else's knees."
They stepped into the elevator. Damien continued cheerfully, "You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say you're about to challenge Marco to a push-up contest. Or a pasta duel."
Alexander stared straight ahead. "I have no interest in competing with a big guy who loves to show off his muscles."
"Uh-huh." Damien sipped his coffee. "You know, she used to look at *you* like that."
Alexander's expression didn't change, but his silence was heavy.
Damien gave him a sidelong glance, then smirked. "Don't worry. You're still her favorite emotionally constipated CEO."
The elevator doors dinged open.
