About this book
Taz Marin can deadlift three-fifteen, make a grown man cry on leg day, and talk any woman at the bar into going home with one of her boys.
What she cannot do is walk into her sister's wedding alone.
The best man is her ex — the one her family still calls endgame, the one who grabbed her hard enough to leave a bruise, the one whose nose she broke on her way out the door. Nobody believed her then. Nobody believes her now. And her family has given her a plus-one with strings attached: real relationship only, no friends, no faking it.
She's not dating anyone. She doesn't date at the gym. She especially doesn't date men nine years older than her.
But there's a man at Ironside Fitness who trains six days a week and speaks to no one. His name is Reginald — never Reggie — and he is willing to wear a light-colored suit and hold her hand in front of her entire family.
She bought an eighty-seven-dollar dress with the tags still tucked in.
She is not getting her money back.
Because this is smut.
