No Strings

After getting dressed in my workout clothes, I wake Brody up so he can start getting ready. To ensure he makes it through the doors of his school today, I’m going to have to deviate from my routine and drop his ass off myself.

When I enter the gym, I’m taken aback by the woman already on the treadmill. Caramel hair up in a ponytail, tiny cotton shorts that show off her thick thighs and plump ass, fluffy boots—beige today—and instead of a T-shirt, she’s sporting a tank top. She’s walking, once again, at a leisurely pace. Only, unlike yesterday, today her treadmill isn’t squeaking… because she’s on mine.

I stalk over to her and cut around the front so I can look her in the eyes, and when I do, I’m stunned silent. The woman is eating a goddamned bag of Doritos while walking on the treadmill. Is she fucking for real? My gaze slides from her mouth to her ample cleavage peeking out of the confines of her top. The saying on the front reads Mind your own biscuits & life will be gravy.

“Oh, hey,” she says with a bright smile, pulling one earbud out of her ear. “Fancy seeing you here again.”

“You’re on my treadmill,” I deadpan, ignoring the way her smile and accent fuck with my head.

She glances around, confused. “Really? Do we sign up somewhere to reserve certain equipment?”

“No, but I use that treadmill every day at this time.” I’ve been using it for years at this time—since I bought a place in this building to use as my home base—and not once has anyone else ever joined me to work out… until now.

“Oh.” She pops an orange chip into her mouth. “Well, good thing there’re two.” She plucks another chip from the bag and drops it into her mouth, then wraps her lips around the tip of her finger, sucking the orange residue off. My thoughts go to her using those same lips and tongue to suck my dick… Fuck, I need to get laid.

She puts her earbud back in and hits something on her treadmill. Frustrated in more ways than one, I walk around to get on the screechy machine next to hers and see she has a tablet resting on the front of her treadmill. What. The. Hell. She’s… reading a book. This woman is barely walking while eating a bag of Doritos and listening to a goddamned audiobook.

I jump on the treadmill and hit the quick start, pushing the speed up to my usual nine miles per hour. The screeching begins immediately, and the faster the speed, the louder it gets. This can’t be happening. I’m never going to make it for an hour. I pound my feet onto the belt of the machine, trying to rid myself of the anxiety and frustration I’m feeling. One minute, I was building nightclubs, partying it up and getting laid in LA, and the next, I’m trying to raise a teenager—one who’s failing out of school, almost burned my apartment down a few days ago when he was trying to smoke in his bathroom, and refuses to speak to me unless I force him to.

My schedule is fucked, and my routine is shot. I don’t even know which way is up, and this goddamn woman is messing with my morning workout.

After several minutes of the obnoxious noise, I give up. Getting off the machine, I instead focus on my upper body. When I glance over, I find her stepping off the machine. I still have a good thirty minutes, so after she smiles and waves, dumping her empty chip bag in the garbage on her way out, I jump on the machine to get a few miles in.

Tomorrow, I’m getting here early, getting my damn treadmill, and unplugging that screechy-ass other one. If she wants to go for a stroll, she can take a walk through Central Park.

After I shower and get dressed, I take Brody to school, stopping at a deli for breakfast along the way. I need to order food so we can start eating at home. I just haven’t found the time.

“Have a good day at school,” I tell him once we reach the front of the school.

He nods, looking bored. “Yeah, okay.”

“Come home right after school, and I’ll pick up dinner.”

“’Kay,” he says, walking through the gates.

I wait until he’s all the way in and then start to walk away, only I get a weird feeling, so I turn around and go back. And sure enough, there he is, walking out of the damn school.

“Are you kidding me?” I bark, making him jump.

“Shit, I mean shoot.” He blanches.

“Get your ass in school!”

“All right, all right.” He raises his hands in a placating manner, then turns around and goes in.

This time, I wait until I hear the bell ring before I walk away. This kid is going to be the death of me.