Aaron
What the hell?
I get that you’re mad, but don’t do stupid shit like this.
Beneath the message is a screenshot from the running app with my information. I stare at it for a moment, trying to figure out why he sent it to me. I didn’t bother to look when I got home, too tired and nauseated to care about anything other than getting horizontal. It takes me a second to process the information. That’s fast. And far.Shit. I have a brief moment of elation. Maybe I’m making progress. I thought I’d be stuck being a slowpoke forever. Apparently, all it takes to speed me up is a bit of rage.
Aaron
You’re going to hurt tomorrow.
I’m sorry.
Oh. That makes sense. My body is already tight and heavy, my muscles still complaining about those two and a half miles.
Me
Oops
I add the little monkey covering his eyes emoji, as though that’s going to let me off the hook. I’m not so much mad as frustrated.
ME:Not mad. Just a lot of pent-up energy.
I hold off on telling him that it’s primarily sexual energy. Not only have we not been on a date, but we also haven’t had sex since we officially switched to a beta relationship.
Aaron
Please stretch and foam roll. It helps. I promise.
Ugh, to both of those suggestions. I’ve been glaring at the bright orange roller Aaron gave me every time I walk through the living room. That thing is pure evil. No matter how much Aaron insists that it feels good, I’m pretty sure it belongs in a torture dungeon—and not the good kind.
I give his message a thumbs up, even though I have no intention of doing either of those things. The least I can do is acknowledge that it’s good advice. Instead, I make a beeline for the freezer and return to my bed with a pint of my favorite chocolate mint ice cream. The label says it has protein, so at least that should help. If I roll the carton over my aching thighs a few times, that’s like a bit of massage.
Aaron
I’m sorry.
I sigh. That’s the second time he’s sent me that message. I’m upset, but there’s nothing either of us can do about it right now. I need to sulk for a few hours, gorge myself on ice cream, and get it out of my system.
Me
I know. I’m going to head to bed. Have a good shift.
It’s early, but I want an excuse to put my phone ondo not disturband tune out for the rest of the evening.
Aaron
Sleep tight.
I put my phone face down on my nightstand and pick one of my comfort watches, a sitcom I’ve seen a few hundred times, and curl up to wallow. I’ll be over it tomorrow, I’m sure of it. I need time to sit with my feelings. Once I’ve had enough ice cream, I get up to put the last half—fine, quarter—of the carton back in the freezer and lock up the place. I glance around the living room a final time, giving the foam roller a good glare, before turning off the lights and making my way back to bed.
Under the covers, I pull the duvet over my head and listen to the background noise of the TV as I drift off to sleep.
CHAPTER 15
AARON
Matthias has a secret.
