Page 33 of Quake

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I snorted. He knew me better than I realized if he doubted I’d go back there. I hadn’t planned on it, actually. Humiliation was winning out the more I delved into this carton of flyers.

How could I look him in the eye knowing he thought I was too much work? He wanted me to go back so he could keep a happy, paying customer, nothing else. Did he want to stop me from giving Beat a negative review on Yelp?Pfft.

He needed to see me? To what? Explain the notion of professional boundaries?

Another text message popped up onto the screen above the first.

It’s important. I need to explain about last night.

I closed my eyes, disappointment washing over me yet again. Sniffing, I turned to the boxes and shoved all thoughts of Caleb Carmichael out of my mind. There was nothing to explain.

Another text message arrived.

I’m not good at this. I need to see you, Jules. If you don’t come to Beat, I’ll wait for you at your place. Please come.

I stared at the message, completely torn. Fuck him. Fuck everything. Fuck my broken life.

* * *

Iwent simplybecause I couldn’t stay away.

My humiliation was absolute, but his text message had risen enough curiosity in me to set my after work course for Beat.

It was Wednesday, so when I arrived, the roller door was closed, and I had to knock to be let inside. There were no classes tonight, nor were there any beefy boxers lingering to get in some extra hours of training. Well, there was one beefy boxer inside waiting for me, and I was still unsure how this was going to play out.

I’d changed at work, more out of habit than anything, and I buried into my hoodie. I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the final chapter. At least being alone was safe. If I didn’t have anyone around me, I wouldn’t get hurt. Right?

I knocked lightly on the door, half of me hoping Caleb wouldn’t hear, and the other half hoping he’d stood me up so I didn’t have to face him.

Inevitably, movement from inside the studio drew my attention, and Caleb’s familiar silhouette came into view. Tall, wide-shouldered, and hardly clothed. There was no doubt who it was.

He unlocked the door and held it open, his gaze meeting mine. My breath hitched a the sight of him and at the realization a wall had slammed down between us.

“Hey,” he murmured, standing aside so I could enter.

I hurried into the studio and lingered as he locked up behind me.

“Caleb, I—”

“Jules,” he interrupted. “I think you should let me explain…”

I was frozen to the spot, unable to think for myself, and he placed his palm on the small of my back, guiding me away from the exit and into the weight room. We were alone, no one else lingered in the shadows, but in here, we had the illusion of privacy.

The straps of my bag were digging into my shoulder, so I set it down on the floor, my gaze sticking to it. Looking anywhere other than Caleb was a good move. Self-preservation and all that.

“I… I didn’t mean to put you in that situation,” I muttered when the silence got the better of me.

“I offered,” he said firmly.

I opened my mouth in an attempt to get the words past my lips, but nothing came out. Probably because there was nothing else to say. I knew what I felt, but I couldn’t describe it.

“Juliette,” Caleb murmured.

My heart ached, my fingers trembling as I desperately sought a way to extract myself from him and Beat. I had to leave. Coming here was a bad move.

“The other night…” he began, but he couldn’t find the words, either.

It was hot in here. I shook off my hoodie and wiped my forehead with the back of my hand. I was going to keel over.