Page 25 of Phoenix

Who comes to the gym in a full face? Jesus.

I look from her to him and back before speaking. “No, I didn’t hit my head. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again.

“I’m fine.” I bend quickly to gather my belongings, specifically my underwear, and shove them back in my bag.

“Maybe, next time, watch where you’re going and this won’t happen.” Brunette Barbie says with a rich, Southern accent I immediately hate.

“Thanks. I’ll be sure to take that advice to heart. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you both to your...conversation.”

I scurry passed them to the door, or at least I try to.

“Nora. Wait.”

I stop and turn to face him as he jogs across the lobby, leaving Miss Big Boobs to go down the hallway alone.

“You didn’t have to leave your friend. I was just leaving. I’m really okay.” I slide my hand through my hair. I always do when I fidget.

“My friend? Her name is Bridgette and we went out once. Hardly a friend. More of a...”

“Fuck buddy?” I interrupt.

“Never got that far. Not into the big fake boobs. I prefer the boobs I’m touching to be soft and pliable. Not bowling balls.”

This pulls a laugh from my throat.

“You’re not very stealthy you know?” I say.

“What do you mean? Of course, I am. It’s my job to be stealthy.” He leans against the door, still beaded with sweat from his workout, and I have to fight the urge to lean in and inhale his scent.

“I saw you watching me swim.” I smile sweetly, watching the embarrassment take over his face.

Point one for me.

“You saw that, huh? I was just watching in awe, wondering why someone who is on vacation comes to the gym before sunrise, in a rainstorm, to swim.”

“It’s my coffee,” I lie, sort of. It is my coffee, but I don’t divulge it’s also my therapy. “Instead of staring, you should have joined me. It’s great cardio.”

I see something flicker across his face. I can’t pinpoint what it is, but it’s something. Fear? Sadness? I’m not sure.

He doesn’t miss a beat though, moving easily past my comment. “Speaking of coffee, come have breakfast with me?” he asks.

He’s never going to give up, is he?

Do I want him to?

“I would, but I’m fresh from a shower—no makeup—I’m not even really dressed and...”

He cuts me off with two hands on my shoulders. “Stop looking for another excuse and just say yes,” he scolds.

He’s right. I really am just looking for an excuse because I’m scared of being alone with him. Scared of getting to know him more because he’s amazing now; he’ll be impossible to resist if I see more of him, I feel it, but I can’t say no.

“Okay. Just let me go put a bra on...I’d at least like to be decent.”

“There’s not a thing wrong with how you are right now.”

“Typical man response, especially because it’s raining and you’re hoping for an impromptu wet T-shirt contest.”

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