Page 64 of Bobby Green
Reg looked down, a little embarrassed. “It’s like… you ever get a really bad itch? Like, in a place nobody can see?”
Trina stared back. “Like a yeast infection?”
Reg shrugged. “Sure. I don’t know. But I guess. Anyway—imagine having to scratch that itch so bad, you don’t care if the person you’re scratching it on actually likes being a… a….”
“Scratching post?” she asked.
“Sure. But, you know. Shaped the opposite.”
“I got nothin’,” she said after a long pause. “Well, I mean, I’ve got a long conversation with my husband that’s going to make him put his hands in front of his crotch for a while, but other than that… okay. That doesn’t sound pleasant on either end. I’ll pass.”
“I’m going to do toe lifts,” he told her, and she followed him to the small Pilates ball with the platform. These things werehard. “Let’s see how I can fuck this up.”
“Here,” she said, holding out her hand so he could balance. “Let’s see how you can make thiswork.”
Once he was locked into place, his stomach and thighs doing most of the work, he started to go up on his toes and then settle back down, slowly and deliberately. Trina held her hand out so he could grab it in case he lost balance.
“It’s not awful,” he confessed after the first ten reps.
“What’s not?”
“Being on the juice, or being with someone on it.”
“Oh,” she said, and he had a moment to wonder if he wasn’t blowing this poor nice married lady’s mind out of the fucking water by talking about fucking, but then she asked, “But is it awesome?”
“No,” he said promptly before launching into another series of lifts. Oh, this was rough on his stomach. That damned ball was tough to stand on.
“What’s awesome?” She caught his hand for a moment as he flailed. “To you, I mean. What makes you want to be in a relationship as opposed to… I guess, just do it for the camera.”
And six and seven and eight and nine and ten.
He grabbed her hand and steadied himself as he went still.
“He likes me.” Reg took a deep breath, his stomach aching. “He wants to be with me because he likes… me, I guess. I mean, not just sex, because God knows we ain’t hadthatyet. But he likes… the person I am. He wants to make me happy.”
“Hm.” She held still, and he caught his breath and started on his last set.
He finished, sweating, and she handed him a towel.
“Having someone—anyone—who wants to make you happy. That you could be happy with. And that you don’t have to juice up to bone—I think that’s an important thing right there, don’tyou, Reg?”
Reg nodded and hopped off the platform.
“Let’s see how I can fuck this up,” he said, winking at her. She didn’t laugh, though. She patted his back, even though he was sweating through his tank.
“Let’s see how you can make this work,” she corrected. “Just like lifting weights.”
He grinned at her. “You’re good at this coaching stuff. You should stick with it.”
“Yeah, well, I never thought I’d be putting my training license to work by life-coaching porn stars,” she admitted. “Let’s hopeImake this work!”
Then she walked him to the ropes and proceeded to destroy him in a good way. He figured she did okay.
LATER HEand Bobby walked down the aisles of Safeway, and Reg watched as Bobby stocked his cart with things like apples and water and brown rice. He bought a little saucepan, and some frozen chicken and some spices too.
Reg watched him woefully and threw things like mac-and-cheese, hot dogs, and spaghetti in his own cart.
“You’re eating all healthy-like,” he said, wondering what V would do if Reg brought home brown rice. He’d brought home salad in a bag once, and she’d thrown it up on purpose. That had been a fun night. “I go with old standbys.”
