“Honey, you’re fine. Go home and take a hot shower so you can thaw out. Things will be fine, but you need to get a new gym. I told you that a week after you met that douche.”
“Who are you?” Again... talking to myself... out loud.
“Happy. I’m happy and you should be too because you found out about his duplicitous ways before you fell harder for him. We’ll get through this, you and me, and we’ll find you a great guy, I swear.”
The voice sounded one hundred percent sure of themselves.
Instead of dragging my sorry ass to bed after my shower, I put on flannel pajamas and went into the kitchen to make a cup of cocoa. I barely remembered sitting down to watch a Christmas movie before I sunk into a deep sleep.
Pounding on the front door woke me from my spot on the couch.
I glanced around the room to see I hadn’t finished the cocoa, and I’d passed out on the couch. Brooke’s Christmas blanket that her grandmother made her when she went off to college was draped over me. The television was off.
“Come on, dude, let me in so we can talk about this. We were celebrating Marco’s birthday, and Rhonda said it was rude for me to just walk out. I didn’t sleep with her, okay? Don’t be a petty bitch.”
Lovely. Devin was outside my door making me the bad guy once again. How damn stupid had I been to give the fucker the time of day?
“Hey, asshole, shut the fuck up and get out of here. I’ve already called the police. You’re drunk, and you’re getting on my nerves. Go now or I’m getting my stun gun!”
One of my neighbors was yelling in the hallway. The voice sounded like the voice in my head, so I hurried across the room to open the door. By the time I got there, all I saw was an empty hallway. I stepped out the door and found the floor was wet, which was odd since nobody was there.
“It was a dream. Go inside and go to bed. Things will be better in the morning.”
There was that voice again. It sounded an awfully lot like the one I’d heard shouting in the hallway a few minutes earlier.
I had to chalk it up to a dream—a realistic fucking dream—but a dream.
Later that morning, I woke up when I heard Kyle talking to Brooke. “Hurry up or we’re going to be late, sweetheart.” They were pitching a new advertising campaign for the spring to a restaurant near Orioles ballpark. We’d been working on it for a month, and we were holding our breath about their acceptance. My part—the artwork—was done. It was up to them to sell it.
I got up from my bed and went out to the kitchen for coffee, seeing Brooke making their coffees and pouring them into thermal mugs with lids.
“Ah, sleeping beauty awakens. We assumed you were staying home today. Do you want me to tell Kyle to cool his jets and wait for you?” God love Brooke, she was like the big sister I never had.
“Naw. I’ll get there later.” I poured myself a cup of coffee as she finished up.
I remembered the previous night and how realistic that dream had seemed. “Hey, did you hear someone pounding on the door last night?”
She giggled. “No, but I’m surprised you’re not complaining about Kyle and me. We got a little loud last night.”
That made sense. Those two were loud when they got down, not just last night, but all the fucking time. That was probably why I fell asleep on the couch. Alcohol and dancing led to Kyle and Brooke banging like a screen door on a windy day.
But that comment reminded me of my third-wheel status and the guy I was banging—or used to bang. Knowing what I did about Devin and his activities behind my back made me sure of one thing. I couldn’t get sucked into a loser’s orbit again.
The barbell resting on my shoulders was heavy as I did squats, watching my form in the wall-to-wall mirror at my new gym, which was in the opposite direction from my old gym. Devin and his lies were a lesson learned, and I was swearing off men for a while.
Much likeDry January, where people who partied too much over the holiday season stopped drinking, I took myself off all the apps and vowed to ignore hot guys when they crossed my path. It was a necessary detox from the string of shitty boyfriends I’d had since I came out at fifteen. I was only twenty-four, so there was plenty of time to meet my Mister Right. Patience, many said, was a virtue.
A large man stepped behind me and smiled at my reflection in the mirror. “You need a spotter, beautiful?”
He wasn’t wrong—I had too much weight on the bar—but I damn well wouldn’t get sucked into another sweet-talking mistake just a week after I’d gotten out of one with Devin.
I stood and put the bar on the pegs before stepping back and shaking out my legs. “That was my last rep, but thanks. I’m fine.”
The guy stuck out his hand and gave me a big smile. “I’m Tyler, one of the trainers here. You’re new, right? I’d never forget a face or an ass like that.”
“God, steroids really do shrink their brains, which I think he keeps in his nuts. Don’t let his shitty pick-up lines sway you from your mission. There’s a better guy for you out there, Avery.”The voice.
I shook the guy’s hand and smiled. “I’m Avery, and if this is you trying to pick me up, thanks for the compliments, but I’m seeing someone.”
