Page 59 of Not That Ridiculous

“That’s stupid.”

“I know that and you know that. Maybe you should tell Kevin.” Jasper stopped walking and I bumped into him. “Hit the floor,” he said, gesturing at the same mats we’d started on.

“What? No, I’m leaving. This torture is over.”

“Not until you’ve done your cooldown.”

I glared at him.

He smiled back.

“Ugh.” I collapsed to the mat and let him boss me through a few stretches.

Thankfully, since we were wrapping things up, he let me half-arse them.

“Right,” he said once we were done. He flipped himself up to standing and reached down a hand. “Good job.” He hauled me up to my feet.

“Thank god. Is it over? Can I go home now?”

Jasper snorted a laugh. “Yes. You can go home, and I get to go and do the same all over again for paying clients.”

“Hey,” I stopped him with a hand on his arm. “I know I’ve done nothing but complain about it but really, I appreciate you doing this for me. I really do. I want to pay you.”

“Nope. I like hanging out with you, Charlie, you’re a good friend, and I absolutely refuse to let you pay me for it.”

“In that case, whenever you come into the shop, it’s on the house. I insist. Fair’s fair.” I thought about it. “Three pounds for an almond milk latte is nowhere near your hourly rate. Liam doesn’t have to pay either.” Still nowhere near his hourly rate, especially as Liam was grimly attempting to stay away from the pastries. Now that he was inching closer to forty, he didn’t spend half as much as he used to on muffins.

“Love that you offered, but I know that you’re still trying to…” He stopped and scratched the back of his neck. “I know that things with the business are still tight after Amalie abandoned you.”

“She didn’t abandon me,” I said automatically.

He sighed. “Charlie?—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Don’t blame you. I’d still be pretty mad about it, if it was me. Where is she now, anyway?”

I shrugged. “Ask Instagram.” If my sister wanted to keep in contact with me, she could take the trouble to text me, not expect me to follow her on social fucking media. “She’s happy, I think. That’s all that matters.”

Jasper said as we headed for the changing room, “You should get to be happy, too.”

“I’m fine.” I had Phil. I had my coffee shop. I had my house, which would hopefully stay standing for another five to ten years until my cash flow had stabilised and I could afford renovations.

What more could I want?

“Yeah. I know you’re fine. I said you should behappy. Which is why I think?—”

“Oh, hey. Is that your client waiting for you?” Jasper turned to look and I left him in Reception, speed-walking to the changing room before he finished his sentence with something along the lines of,I think you should sleep with Kevin.

I didn’t want to sleep with Kevin.

Okay, I did want to sleep with Kevin.

Jasper knew it, I knew it.

Kevin knew it.

It was just a terrible idea, for a number of reasons.

---