Right?
As I go about welcoming customers to the gym and trying to learn the computer system, I try to convince myself that West’s granddad would care enough for his grandson to look out for him, but it’s a hard sell. The old bastard only appears to yell at West, put him down and make demands. Would he intervene if West was in danger?
As for his sister, she’s never there, and when she is it’s because she needs help and not the other way round.
Fuck… I should be there for him, but… I can’t. It’s not that I don’t care about West. I just can’t face him. I can’t even look at myself in the mirror, let alone talk to the guy who’s closer than a brother to me, a guy who knows me better than I know myself and who now knows how worthless I am.
I can’t. Especially after what happened with Sydney. The black cloud hanging over me isn’t going away.
I plaster a smile on my face for the elderly couple coming in to renew their gym membership and even manage to get the process right, despite the turmoil in my mind. I’m pretty used to working on autopilot by now, anxiety and fear always crowding my thoughts—but this is all new to me and I need to concentrate to get it right. At least my morning job is as easy as they come.
The couple thank me and wander inside the gym, holding hands. They’re wearing matching hoodies, I notice, and sneakers, and he’s carrying both their bags. He says something and she turns and smiles at him, her eyes bright.
A knot forms in my throat. I sit down and rub a hand over my mouth, wondering at the strange squeezing sensation in my chest.
That’s love, I think. She loves him. He loves her, too. And they get to share a life, share smiles, with time to spend at the gym, time to hold hands, for years and years. They get to share a life, be happy together.
How bad I want that. How fucking bad.
Then the memory of shoving Sydney away, of the panic attack, hits me again right in the gut and it’s all I can do not to go rock in a goddamn corner.
I’m done.
Keeping away from my roommates, falling back into the same old cycle, isn’t hard. I’d rather hang out with strangers who know nothing about me. No expectations, no worry etched in their faces when they look at me. Strangers don’t know anything’s wrong with me. They don’t pity me and aren’t scared of me.
It’s a relief, even if the image of that elderly couple comes back to haunt me in unexpected moments—reminding me of what I’ll never have.
Better get used to the idea.
“What’s up, pretty boy? Have you made up your mind to go out for a drink with me?”
That’s Molly, a trainer working here at the gym. She’s friendly.
Very friendly. And not bad looking, either, with her blond long ponytail and fit body, but… Yeah, not interested.
“What happened, cat got your tongue?” She leans on the front desk, then reaches over and tugs on my hair. “Love the highlights. They natural?”
Whoa. I jerk out of reach, my heart pounding. “Hands off.”
Highlights? What the fuck? That’s what happens when you avoid looking at yourself in the mirror.
She laughs as if I’ve said something funny, throwing her head back. “Relax, cowboy. Love your hair. And your eyes.” She licks her lips. “Those nice biceps are easy on the eyes, too.”
“I’m not for sale, woman. Go talk to Chuck.” I nod at the other trainer, a guy built like a brick shithouse, all bulging muscles and veiny forearms. “He’s been dying to have you pet his hair.”
She laughs again. “You’re an interesting guy, Nathaniel.”
“I’m more than you can handle,” I mutter. Dammit, I don’t mean it to sound the way it comes out. It sounded different in my head.
Her gaze heats. “Yeah? Wanna show me? I bet you’re more than a handful.”
And damn if she doesn’t lean over the desk again to stare at my crotch.
I kid you not. This woman is nuts. Might have been fun in another life, but yeah, not in this one. Not in mine.
But I keep up the banter a bit longer before she heads off to help a customer with a machine. I shake my head as I watch her go.
Flirting with chicks is something I do a lot. It makes me feel almost normal. She’s not the only one who’s come on to me over the past year, and as long as we’re around people, I can pretend to be a normal guy, carefree and able to function just like any other man in proximity to another person.