“Whehwn yew wan awhey frompf mey?” Giles says around a mouthful of croissant. Fortunately I am an expert at understanding people trying to speak while enjoying my café's offerings.
“Yes, when I ran away from you,” I say very sheepishly.
Giles swallows and I notice how even that seems to engage a number of muscles around his jaw. I didn't even know it was possible to have muscle tone there.
“Yeah, that was a bit dickish. I thought I'd done something to upset you.”
“No! God, no,” I insist. “I was just... embarrassed.”
Giles' frown is deep. He probably has muscles on his forehead too. “Why were you embarrassed?” He takes another bite.
I look him up and down taking in his tartan suit and then give myself a once over. “Because look at you and look at me.”
Giles' forehead muscles dig even deeper. "I'm not following you?”
“You are built like Adonis and I'm built like a donut.” I poke my soft belly for effect.
Giles switches to working out his smile muscles and it's a very nice smile. Wide and warm and genuine, making his moustache bounce. "You're a very attractive man, Marcello. You shouldn't think otherwise.”
Ridiculously I feel a small amount of heat rush to my cheeks at the compliment. “Well, err, thanks.”
“The gym is for everybody. And I mean that in terms of every kind of body as well as for every person.” Giles takes a long sip of coffee and then closes his eyes as he swallows again. “Fuck, you make good coffee overthere. Thank you for bringing these over.” He lifts his hands which hold the coffee cup and the pastry.
“It's the least I can do after, you know...”
“You ran away from me?” Giles winks at me and I feel my shoulders finally relax. Seems like he really is okay about it now, which I suppose means I should get out of here and let him get on with his day.
“Well, thanks for being so cool about it,” I say and start to move back.
“Wait," Giles says and he starts walking around the counter and onto the shop floor, brushing his hands together to wipe away crumbs. “We should go together.”
“Go together?” It's my turn to frown. “Go where together?”
“The gym.” Giles gives me another moustache-bouncing smile. He's less than a metre in front of me now and I realise that I can smell his cologne, or what I assume is that. It's a soft scent with hints of eucalyptus and dry earth. It's not at all unpleasant. If it wasn't weird, I would ask him what it is he's wearing.
“You want to go to the gym with me?” I put my finger on myself again, this time my chest which is slightly more solid than my stomach. Slightly.
“Sure. It would be fun.”
“Fun? The gym?” I grimace.
Giles laughs. “You know it isn't that bad. Do you think I'd go so much if it was? Maybe I can help you enjoy it a bit more.”
“I'm only really going to build up some strength,” I admit. "I've signed up for a triathlon, you see and—”
“A triathlon? That's incredible!” Giles declares and it really does seem like he's impressed.
“I've only signed up, mind you,” I point out. “Who knows if I'll actually do it.”
“You'll do it,” Giles says crossing his arms which only seems to exaggerate just how broad and solid his chest is. Giles isn't a tall man –he's three or four inches shorter than me – but his stockiness is something that always takes me by surprise no matter how often our paths cross.
“If I have ten percent of your confidence, I'll be okay,” I say with a huff of a laugh.
“I'll help you,” he adds.
“At the gym?” My eyebrows lift.
“Yes, and I'd be happy to run or bike or swim with you too. I could be an accountability partner. You'll check in with me every week so I can help you keep an eye on your progress.” He nods as if it's decided but I find myself shaking my head.
