I glimpse a familiar head of cropped black hair on the other side of the glass wall. Levi looks so approachable in his Pulse Fitness polo as he carries a stack of towels, like a boy next door who just so happened to serve a short stint in jail. He doesn’t see me, for which I’m somewhat grateful, since I’ve just finished fighting for my life.
I still have no clue how to appropriately apologize to him, but I’m desperate to clear the air. Should I ask him out for coffee? Or will that only pique his interest again? I don’t want to fan a flame that Idon’t intend on keeping lit. EvenifLevi still wants to be “hopefully mine.”
I’m going to have to find him later and solve this once and for all.
I unclip my spin shoes from the bike as someone calls my name from the back of the room.
Brandon’s friend from college, Julia, walks toward me. The top half of her red bob is held back in two butterfly clips on the top of her head, and she’s wearing a lavender workout tank and leggings. With her short hair and tall, slender figure, she could pass for a fresh-faced runway model.
“Julia! Hey!” Adrenaline and camaraderie pulse in my veins, and I give her a bright smile. “I didn’t know you were in this class!”
“Yeah, I was late, so I snuck in the back.” Julia glances at the instructor before she whispers, “Kinda regret coming now. I’ve got a shift at my boutique later and I just might need a wheelchair.”
“You work in a boutique?” I ask.
Julia nods with a shy smile. “Own it, actually. Well, me and my best friend. She runs the floor and inventory while I do the advertising and marketing.”
“That sounds cool! Like on social media?” I bend to retrieve my sweat towel and water bottle before we begin to walk down the hall.
Julia pulls out her phone. “Yup. I’m super proud of it.” She shows me the social media feed for her boutique, Autumn & June.
I stall my next step, peering closer. Their account has a huge following, and each video is artfully styled with a trendy, fresh feel. The captions are witty and engaging, and I can’t help but laugh at a few. This doesn’tfeellike marketing—it feels like branding. Community. And somehow a sense of female camaraderie, much like the spin class we just left.
“That’s incredible. Do you film and edit the videos yourself?”
Julia bobs her head, eyes shining. “Yup.”
We grin at each other as I hand back her phone, and she checks the time.
Julia says, “I gotta run to meet my boyfriend, Dallas, but it was so fun getting to chat with you. Brandon has told me so much about you.”
“Don’t believe a word that man says.”
Julia laughs, and it startles me. It sounds more like a robust honkthan a laugh, and couldn’t be more different than the delicate-looking woman making it.
“Don’t worry,” she says. “I told him I make my own opinions, and I happen to think you’re great.”
“It’s nice that Brandon’s slanderous ways don’t affect everyone.”
“Nope. Besides, Brandon and Tuck are the ones that need parenting, and I don’t listen to toddlers.”
I snort. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.”
She grabs her things, and her heart-shaped face splits into a shy smile. “See you around!”
“See you!” I chuckle. For all the annoyance that man has brought into my life, claiming one of Brandon’s friends as my own only seems fair.
The levity in my steps, however, draws heavier as I near the boxing room.
BRANDON
I crouch, pressing a long strip of duct tape to the gym mat. I don’t feel too bad about marking up the boxing ring, since the New Year swell seems to prefer the cardio side of Pulse Fitness. I swear, though, every time I pass the circulation desk I recognize another person signing a membership. Pretty sure even the barista guy with the short dreads from the museum—Rohan, I think is his name—comes here now.
Only a few regulars are over on the punching bags as I swipe a second intersecting line of tape across the other.
As I begin to stand, my gaze snags on a pair of fuchsia running shoes a few yards away. I rake my eyes up a pair of legs wrapped in skin-tight black leggings to find the most adorable scowl.
I grin, wiping my palms against my black muscle tank. “Morning, Katie Cat.”
