Playing (Inked Hearts 2)

Iris: For someone who doesn't date or do relationships, you ask a lot of personal questions.

Walker: This is why I need you. To teach me the ways of wooing women.

Iris: You have problems with that?

Walker: Well…

I can see him smiling. Hear his laugh. Feel the warmth in my gut.

Walker: No. I don't. But what if I get into an accident that mars my perfect face? Then I'll have to rely on my personality.

Iris: You think it's perfect?

Walker: You don't?

Iris: No comment.

Walker: That's a yes.

It is. He's out of this world hot. And way out of my league too. All those years of not caring what I eat coupled with the post rehab sugar addiction means I'm not exactly in tip-top shape.

I'm getting there.

I'm going to complete all these stupid steps. Including the exercise one. And the eating one. And the sleeping one…

Well, I'll save that for last. Or second to last. Before making amends. There are too many people on that list. I'm not ready for it.

Iris: You'll still have your perfect body.

Walker: Thanks for noticing.

Iris: Can I ask you something?

Walker: I asked you if you're in therapy. Seems fair.

Iris: How much do you work out to look like that?

Walker: Enough.

Iris: Not an answer.

Walker: A lot. My friend and I train together. It's like a dick measuring contest. We're always competing to see who's stronger and bigger.

Iris: Bigger?

Walker: Not that.

Iris: Never?

Walker: No, we've never whipped it out, started stroking, then grabbed the measuring tape.

Iris: Your friend who was at the shop? Dean?

Walker: Yeah. How'd you know? Never mind. It's obvious from three seconds in his presence. He's not the most grown up.

Iris: But a good friend?

Walker: Yeah.