Forever Right Now

Instantly, there she was in my mind’s eye; naked and curled against me, her dark hair spilled over my pillow, her brilliant smile muted in the soft light of morning.

I shook my head, irritated.

“You can’t have a one-night stand with a person who lives in the same building as you. That’s madness.”

“And something beyond a one-night stand is impossible?” Jackson said, his eyebrows raised.

“Yes. If it goes south—which it will—I’ll have to move.”

He chuckled, then narrowed his eyes. “Hold up. If the whole situation with the lovely Darlene is hopeless, why tell me about it? Because you want me to talk sense into that thick skull of yours, am I right?”

Shit.

“Wrong,” I said. “I told you because it was newsworthy. She’s a new person in my building.” I heard how stupid that sounded and kept talking as if I could bury the words with more words. “And we’re not compatible anyway. We’re too different. She’s…”

Weightless.

“She’s not serious,” I said. “And I am.”

“Understatement of the century,” Jackson muttered. “So she’s fun? You need fun. You’re in desperate need of fun.”

“What I need is to graduate, then pass the bar. Besides,” I added in between reps, “she’s not interested in dating. She said she moved here to work on herself, which is code for, ‘I’m a young, hot girl who doesn’t want to hang out with a guy and his toddler.’” I pressed the ropes down, hard as I could, my muscles screaming. “She’s going to go out. Party. Have dates. I don’t have the time or funds for either one, never mind the mental energy to put toward a girlfriend.”

“Hold the phone.” Jackson’s triumphant smile was blinding. “In all the five years I’ve known you, you have never used the word ‘girlfriend’ in my presence.”

“Because I’ve never wanted one.”

“Wanted? Past tense?” Jackson said through the strain of bicep curls. “The plot thickens.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t have girlfriends and I’m not doing casual hook-ups around Livvie. And I can’t ask Elena to babysit more than she does already so I can take someone out. I don’t see Olivia enough as it is.”

“That’s noble, my friend. And stupid,” Jackson said. “You need to blow off steam before you have a mental breakdown. Remember Frank? In our second year? All the guy did was study. Got busted snorting rails of coke between classes to stay awake.”

“I’m not going to do drugs, for fuck’s sake. I have a kid.”

“Not saying you are, but the pressure of law school breaks people down. And you’re buried.”

“I’ve got it under control.”

Jackson looked like he was going to pursue it, but he stared at me for a moment, then went back to his reps. “So what does this Darlene do?”

“She’s a dancer.”

“Ooh, so she’s flexible. Bonus.”

I shot him a dirty look. “The dancing’s a side thing. She’s a massage therapist.”

Jackson dropped his arms and glared at me through the mirror.

I stared back. “What?”

“She’s a massage therapist?”

“Yeah? So?”

“Jesus, man, have you lost your game entirely? Tell her you’re stressed out—not a lie— and that she can practice on you. Do you need me to think of everything? Hell, if you won’t date her, maybe I will.”

The sudden rush of blood to my face shocked me, and the rope slipped out of my hands. The weights clanged on the rack.