Thirty minutes and five miles later, I hit the stop button, letting myself slow to a jog before finally stepping off my hamster wheel. Giving the machine a quick wipe down, I give the woman, two treadmills over, a flat smile while I snatch my phonefrom the cup holder. She’s been looking at me since she came in. Watching me like she’s hoping I’ll approach her and try to chat her up. She’s cute—a curvy brunette with big brown eyes and a nice ass. Her name is Becca. We’ve hooked up a few times since I moved into the building, six months ago.
If I was in a better mood, I’d probably take her up on it. It’s Friday night and I don’t have fuckall planned besides heading back up to my apartment and watching the Yankees’ game over leftover takeout.Distraction by Beccais definitely better than cold pizza and baseball.
Grabbing a towel from the stack on my way out, I ignore the pouty looks Becca’s giving me while I hit the call button on the elevator. As soon as the doors slide open, I step inside and hit the button for my floor before tapping the screen on my phone.
It's a text.
From Paige.
Hesitating, but only for a second, I open the text thread between us.
Paige: Do you own a suit?
Weird question.
Me: Since when are you interested in me with my clothes on?
Paige: Haha—very funny. Do you?
Me: I own a few—why?
Paige: Because I need you to put one on and meet me. My date backed out last minute.
Me: You got stood up for a date so your first thought was to hitme up? Seriously?
Paige: Who else would I ask? You’re the most stable relationship I have.
Paige and I have been off and on for years now—ever since I tended bar for her cousin’s bachelorette weekend—but we’ve beenofffor a few months now. That’s how it is between us. She’ll text or call me out of the blue and we end up screwing around for a month or two before she gets bored or finds someone better to do. Then she drops off the map until she gets bored or horny enough to start the whole process over again. The last time we broke things off, it’d been me who did the breaking and since then, I’ve been determined to keep things broken.
Me: That’s sad.
Paige: Please. Like you’re any better?
Shit.
She’s got me there.
Sighing, I tap out a text.
Me: And where would I be wearing this suit to?
You fucking idiot.
The elevator bobs to a stop and the doors open on my floor. Stepping out into the hallway, I walk down the corridor to my apartment. Letting myself in, I head straight to the kitchen, tossing my phone on the counter before retrieving a glass from the cabinet. Filling it with cold water from the tap, I drain it before going in for a refill, trying to talk myself off the ledge I’ve suddenly been led to.
It doesn’t matter where because you’re not doing it.
You’re not.
You’re staying home.
Alone.
And if you can’t handlealone, you can always knock onDistraction by Becca’sdoor. She’s always down to fuck and she doesn’t come with baggage.
By the time I’m done, Paige has texted back twice.
Paige: Millie and Allister’s rehearsal dinner.
