Gym Junkie

Brock is standing under a tree, his right shoulder resting against the trunk.

I freeze on the spot and he gives me a lop-sided smile before he comes towards me.

“Hi,” he says lightly.

I twist my hands in front of me nervously. “Hi.”

“You didn’t tell me you were a science geek.”

I smile awkwardly. “Trying to hide it.” I grip the strap of my handbag with white knuckle force.

Brock smiles flatly and scratches his head. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

My eyes hold his. “What about?”

He steps back onto his back foot as if frustrated. “Tully, I just want to talk to you for two minutes. Can we get a drink or something?”

“No.” I glance over to the road. “I have to catch my bus.”

“I can drive you home, if you want.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. I don’t want him to know where I live. “No, that’s okay. Thanks, anyway.”

He drops his head, defeated. “You’re not going to get over this, are you?”

“Brock,” I whisper.

“I’m sorry, okay, I didn’t know.”

I stare at him.

“I hate that I made you feel dirty,” he says sadly.

I watch him, unsure of what to say.

“I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s fucking with my head.”

I exhale heavily. “It wasn’t you.”

“It was, you said so yourself.”

“No, Brock. I said I am disgusted with myself.”

His eyes search mine.

“I don’t blame you at all. I asked for it, begged for it, actually.” I shrug. “I just don’t like the way it made me feel after, that’s all.”

He picks up my hand and holds it in his. “You’re the first girl I’ve dug in forever.”

“But I know I’m not the first girl you’ve fucked in forever.” I pull my hand from his grip.

He frowns.

“Brock, we’re just wired differently.” I smile sadly. “And that’s okay. That’s what makes you, you, and what makes me, me.”

He stares at me as if trying to understand. “Why haven’t you been back to the gym?”

“I cancelled my membership.”

His face falls. “What? You hate me that much?”

“I don’t hate you.” I shake my head. “I just don’t trust myself with you.”

“Why not?”

“Because you are stupid hot.”

He smiles, almost shyly. “You know...” He glances up, pausing and drawing in a breath before he finally decides to say whatever’s on his mind. “That vanilla sex you think you need… it’s never going to do it for you.”

I raise my eyebrow. “You’re giving me sex advice now?”

“Tully.” He sighs and scowls slightly. “I know it’s not going to happen for us now. I’ve fucked that up. I’ve been thinking about what you said, and you were right: we are wired too different.”

“Why do you think we’re so different?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I want to have fun, and you want to be serious and good.”

I clench my jaw in annoyance. That’s not true. I want fun, too.

“But I want to tell you something, and please, don’t take it the wrong way.”

For fuck’s sake. What’s he talking about now?

“I know women’s bodies.”

I roll my eyes in disgust. Isn’t that the filthy truth.

“No, hear me out. You need to know… you’re naturally submissive during sex.”

My eyes meet his.

“Vanilla, passive sex will never do it for you.” He shrugs. “It just won’t.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. I love normal sex, Brock, in a bed with someone I love.”

“Maybe, but you also need to be taken and loved hard. You enjoyed it ,Tully. I know you did. You came so hard you nearly snapped my dick off. Why don’t you just admit the truth to yourself?” His eyes hold mine.

I smile sympathetically. He just doesn’t get it. He never will. “Is it all about the sex for you?” I sigh. “Is that really all that matters?”

“No.” He frowns, reaching for my hand. “I’m just telling the truth.”

“Your truth and my truth are two different things. We will never see eye to eye on this subject. We can only ever be friends and I’m okay with that.” I pull away from him.

“I don’t want you to hate me.”

“I don’t, this is about me, not you.” I smirk. “You’re way too hot to hate.”

He gives me a slow, sexy smile.

“See you later.” I turn and walk towards the bus stop.

“Tully Pocket!” he calls. “It was fun, hey?”

I turn and smile at him, walking backwards towards the bus top. “Have a nice life, Brock Marx.” I blow him a kiss and he smiles, catching it and slapping it against his cheek.

I laugh and turn back away from him one last time, walking away with renewed vigour. It’s a bittersweet moment in my life.

Mainly because it was the last time I saw Brock Marx.

Chapter 7

Six Weeks Later

I lie back and direct my face to the sun, feeling the warmth of the vitamin D sinking into my skin.

This is the life. I’m carefree and having the summer of my life.