Gym Junkie

“Why didn’t you just ask her in and talk about it like a fucking man?”

“What am I going to say, Ben?” I throw my hands up in the air. “What the fuck could I possibly say that will make me feel any better?”

“Why don’t you just listen?” He frowns. “You don’t need to say anything. Just listen, you hot-headed prick.”

“You know, Brock, Bridget forgave me when I left. She made a decision to try and work it out because she knew I loved her, and she loved me.”

My eyes rise up to his.

“Being stubborn will only hurt you.” He sips his beer. “Nobody else gives a fuck if you go back to her or not. But you’ll be the one who loses a life with her if you don’t at least try to work things out.”

I sip my beer and stare off into the distance.

“I’ll tell you one thing,” he says. “It doesn’t go away. Once you’ve met her, nobody else will do. Trust me, five years I pined for Bridget. Five fucking long years.”

I sip my beer again.

“And it won’t go away, so you can listen to her now, or you can wait five years and then have the conversation.” He raises his brow sarcastically. “But you will have it, because if you don’t, you’ll go insane,” he adds.

I shake my head in disgust. “Just shut the fuck up, will you?” I sigh. “What are you, a fucking marriage councillor now?”

He smirks as he sips his beer. “Yeah. That’ll be two-hundred and fifty dollars, thanks.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not paying for your shitty advice.”

“Suit yourself. Stubbornness will get you nowhere, my friend.”

Tully

“See you.” I wave to my co-workers as I head for the bus stop.

I’ve been flat today. Brock and I hardly spoke this morning when he dropped me off at work. He wasn’t screaming at me, but it was an icy wakeup. Especially since I woke up in his arms, lying on his chest, our legs tangled together and his erection up against my hip. I thought I may have pushed a few of his buttons last night, but obviously not. I’m going to have to find another way of reaching him. I make my way to the bus stop and take a seat on the bench. My phone beeps.

BROCK: Need a lift?

I glance up and see Brock parked on the other side of the road. He gives me a crooked smile in return, and my heart swells. I stand and run across the road to him. A car horn blares to life when I nearly run out in front of it in excitement.

I bounce into Brock’s car. “Oh my God, did you see that?”

“Be fucking careful.”

Hope blooms in my chest. “Hi.”

“Hello, Tully Pocket,” he says casually as he starts the car.

I smile goofily. He called me Tully Pocket. He hasn’t called me Tully Pocket for a month.

“How was your day?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Okay, I guess.” His eyes drift to mine. “Yours?”

“Better now.”

He rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to the road. Something is different about him this afternoon. I’m not going to push it. I’ll just try and let the conversation flow naturally. “Any news on the case?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Are you sure Meredith didn’t say anything last night?”

I shrug. “Nothing.” I think for a moment. “And we were pumping her full of questions. I honestly don’t think she knows anything. The girl can’t keep a secret at all.” I look over to him. “Remember when she told you about my vibrator?”

He rolls his eyes in disgust. “Where is that fucking vibrator, anyway?”

I smile. “In my top drawer.”

He smirks but keeps his lips firmly clenched closed. “Meredith has been moved into a different house today. We’re going to go and see her tonight, if that’s okay. Just grab your things and we’ll head off soon,” he says as he watches the road.

I smile and widen my eyes. “Am I sensing that you’re beginning to like Meredith?” I tease.

He smiles this time. “She’s okay… I guess.”

I point at him. “Ha. See, I told you. Once you get past her weirdness she has a heart of gold.”

We pull up at my apartment and I climb out. “Are you coming in?” I ask.

“No, I’ll wait here,” he says, then he frowns. “No, actually I’ll come up.” He climbs out of the car. The two of us walk up into my building and into the lift.

He’s silent, keeping his hands to himself while I stand patiently beside him.

We make our way into my apartment, and I walk into the kitchen, turning to him. “Would you like a drink?”

He shakes his head, and his eyes hold mine. He looks like he has something on his mind. “Start talking.”

“Start talking?” I frown. Does he mean…?

“You heard me.” He waits for a moment. “Tell me why?”