I wanted her to come.
But I wouldn’t force her to if she didn’t want to.
I wasn’t sure how she did in crowds, and there were a lot of big ass men at that gym. If she didn’t want to be there…
“My brother should be there.” She paused. “I don’t know why he’s there, by the way. It’s really weird that he’s teaching a CrossFit class.”
I looked at her curiously. “Is it?”
I headed to the bathroom to wash my hands, go to the bathroom, wash my hands again, and then brush my teeth with the toothbrush she’d found for me the previous night.
When I got back, I reached for my jeans and shucked them up past my hips, doing this little jump thing as I got both feet into the holes at the same time.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone put their jeans on, both pants legs at the same time,” she murmured, watching me move, seemingly at ease with my almost-nakedness. “And yes, it’s weird. Haggard isn’t really that much of a team player. I would more quantify him as a nomad. Unless it comes to my brothers, or his kids. Then he’s all in. But even with his friends… I feel like there’s more to him being there than meets the eye.”
I thought about that for a moment.
“You don’t think it’s due to Madden’s son dying, and them needing help?” I asked curiously.
I mean, it was possible, I supposed, that there was more to him being there.
But I hadn’t had any reason to question it before now.
“I’m confident there’s more to it,” she admitted. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. He would’ve offered to help for a little bit. But not this long. It’s been a while since he passed away, hasn’t it?”
“Four weeks tomorrow,” I answered, reaching for my shirt.
“A week? Yes. Two? Maybe. Four? Hell no. There’s more to it,” she replied confidently.
“Hmmm,” I said as I sat on the bed and started to slip my socks onto my feet. “Wasn’t there some shit going down with his kids, and his ex-wife?”
“Oh yeah,” she confirmed. “Major shit. As in, ex-wife is out for blood, may just kill him, kind of shit.”
My brows rose at that as I started to fit my feet into my boots.
I got momentarily distracted when she finally got up, revealing her long-sleeved t-shirt and panties.
My heart hitched.
I hadn’t realized that she’d taken her pants off until right that moment…and my eyes were glued to her ass, and what little of it was covered by what she considered panties.
“What’s going on with Haggard?” I asked, trying to distract myself.
She walked over to a pair of jeans that were laid over the back of a chair in the corner of her room, and then slipped them on, I noticed, one leg at a time.
“So it all started when his ex-wife decided that she was tired of living the ‘poor life’ as she called it. She wanted a new car, and Haggard told her he couldn’t afford a new car. He bought her a used one… and shit just declined from there. The kids, Clementine, who is nineteen now, and Boston, who is thirteen, both chose to live with Haggard. Which pissed his ex-wife off something fierce because then Haggard didn’t have to pay her any child support. She requested spousal support, because she says she’s ‘physically unable to work,’ but they haven’t gone to court on that yet,” she answered as she disappeared into the bathroom.
With her ass now covered, I was able to finish lacing up my boots.
Once I was done, I headed in the direction of the kitchen to search for her coffee maker.
I found it in the corner, a full cup of coffee already waiting.
“This is nice,” I mumbled to myself, pulling it out and starting a new one.
Since she wasn’t there to drink it, I helped myself, downing half of the cup before the other one finished brewing.
When she finally arrived, I handed her the cup of coffee that I’d poured for her, and she smiled.
“I see you helped yourself to my favorite cup,” she teased as she all but spilled out of her bedroom as she slipped on her shoes.
I eyed the shoes she was hopping on one foot to get on.
They were Birkenstocks. Sparkly black ones that had straps going every which way across her feet.
“Those are fun,” I found myself saying. “I like them.”
She took the extended coffee that I held out to her, then took one long sip.
I watched the muscles in her throat work as she drank heartily.
My dick started to lengthen in my jeans again, and I had to count backward from one hundred to get it back under control.
“I’m ready,” she announced.
I finished my cup, rinsed it in the sink, and then washed it for good measure.