Page 39 of Captured Love

Knox takes a step closer, and my heart starts its flip-flop routine again. “If you ever need a workout buddy, I can be around as much as my schedule allows,” he says. “No pressure.”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. His proximity is doing strange things to my thoughts, muddling them in ways I’m not prepared for. Aren’t I supposed to be mad at him?

“So,” he continues, rubbing the back of his neck. “Have you thought any more about… what we talked about? The apology and the?—”

“Outing?” I add for him because I’m not sure how else to describe it. “Yeah, I’ve thought about it.”

More often than I care to admit.

Knox looks at me with an intensity that makes goosebumps appear on my skin.

“I appreciate the apology, Knox. Really, I do. It means a lot that you’re sorry for how things ended. But I’m not sure what us going out will accomplish.”

Knox's eyes narrow slightly, as if he's trying to read something deeper in my expression. “It's not just about accomplishing something. It's about giving us a chance to... I don't know, clear the air?”

A part of me wants to believe him, to let go of the hurt and dive back into whatever confusing thing this is between us. But another part—perhaps the more sensible, self-preserving part—reminds me how deep that hurt runs.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to expel some of the tension that's built up in my shoulders. “It's not that simple, Knox.”

“I know it's not,” he says quickly, almost too quickly, like he's afraid I'll walk away before he can finish. “But maybe it could be. Simple, I mean. Like, we go out, we talk, and we see where things stand.”

I adjust my stance as I repeat what he said in my head. “And if things stand in the same place they are now?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Then at least we tried.”

I study Knox’s face, searching for any hint of disingenuousness, but all I see is the earnestness of a guy who believes what he’s saying. The problem is that I believed him once before, but my emotions got the best of me and look where that got me.

“Trying takes a lot of energy,” I say, stalling. “Energy I might not have after all these workouts.”

He laughs, a short burst that sounds like relief. “You’ll build up your stamina.”

I want to laugh with him, to let this tension dissolve in the easy banter we used to share. Instead, I just nod, still weighing my options.

“Okay,” I say finally. “One outing or whatever.”

His face lights up briefly before he catches himself. “Great. When are you free?”

I think about my schedule, about the safest distance I can put between now and this potential minefield of a conversation. “Next week. Maybe Monday.”

“Monday works,” he says. “I’ll text you the details. Are you done working out for the day?”

I nod quickly. There’s no way I could go back now even if I wanted to. “I am.”

“Do you need a ride home?”

This time I shake my head. “I drove here right after class.”

“Well how about we grab our things, and I’ll walk you to your car?” he asks.

I hesitate, but finally say, “Sure, that’d be nice.”

We head to the locker rooms, and I’m grateful for the break from Knox and for bringing an extra set of clothes with me. As I change into my street clothes, I replay our conversation in myhead. Can we really clear the air? Is it even possible to start fresh after everything?

I take an extra moment to tie my shoes. The truth is, a part of me is terrified to let go of the anger I've held onto. It's been easier to blame him for everything than to face the fact that I might have been just as foolish because I was warned about him.

When I step out, Knox is waiting with his gym bag slung over one shoulder. He’s changed into jeans and a t-shirt, looking every bit the guy I met that fateful night at a party. My heart does its traitorous flip-flop again.

“Ready?” he asks.

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