Brandon
It'sday four of living with Stella, and her mother has extended her stay. She's said something about wanting to spend more quality time with us as a couple. What started as a few days of fake boyfriend duty is stretching into a week of domestic intimacy that's messing with my head.
The problem isn't that Stella's staying at my place. It's how much I like having her at my place. How right it feels to wake up knowing she's in my bed, to hear her humming in the shower, to find her coffee mug next to mine in the sink. After that kiss at the restaurant and that damn list she made, I can't even look at her without my brain going places it absolutely shouldn't.
So, here I am at seven in the morning, forcing myself through shoulder rehab exercises in the building's gym, because staying in the apartment while she gets ready for work is becoming a special kind of torture. I need the distraction, and I need to get my head straight before I do something stupid.
The shoulder-press machine is mocking me. Three months ago, I could've knocked this weight out without breaking a sweat. Now I'm gritting my teeth halfway through the second set, too stubborn to admit how far I've backslid.
I'm debating one more rep when Mason walks in.
He's already in workout gear, his earbuds slung around his neck, looking like someone who actually plans his workouts instead of using the gym to escape his feelings.
“Morning,” he says, grabbing a towel off the rack.
“Hey, Mason.”
“Early start today?” He settles onto the bench next to the machine I'm using, clearly in no rush to begin his own workout.
“Yeah, couldn't sleep. Figured I'd get some energy out.”
“I feel you. I've been up since five working on this app.” He stretches his shoulders. “Sometimes, I think I spend more time in front of a computer than I do sleeping.”
“What kind of app?”
“Adoption matching for animal shelters. Trying to streamline the whole process, make it easier for people to find the right pet.” His face lights up as he talks about it.
“That's cool, man. Noble cause.”
“Thanks. It's one of those things where, if it works, it could really make a difference, you know?” He pauses, fidgeting with his towel. “Hey, random question, but you're friends with Stella, right? The girl from our building?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you guys, like, together? A couple or something?”
I'm not sure how to respond to that question at this exact moment, but the odds of Mason running into Stella's mom or seeing us together are slim. “Nah, just good friends. She lives across the hall, and we sort of run in the same circles professionally.”
“Cool.” He takes a sip from his water bottle. “What does she do again? I know she's always dressed really sharp.”
“She's a talent agent.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “No shit? That's awesome. Does she know famous people?”
There's something about the way his face lights up that rubs me wrong. Like Stella just became more interesting because of who she might know instead of who she is.
“Some, yeah. It's her job.”
“That's so cool. I bet she can get passes to movie premieres and stuff, right?” He grins like he's joking, but there's genuine interest behind it. “Must be nice having connections like that.”
I shrug, not liking where this is going. “She works hard for her clients.”
“Oh, totally. I'm sure she's great at what she does.” He starts setting up at the bench press. “She just seems so, I don't know, shy? I'll say hey in the hallway, and she practically runs away. It's kind of cute, actually.”
“She's just not great with small talk.” I try to reel in the defensiveness that I'm sure is coming out in my voice.
“That's surprising, though, right? I mean, with a career like hers, wouldn't networking and client schmoozing be a huge part of the job?” He loads weights onto the bar, his tone genuinely curious but missing the mark. “I bet, once she gets comfortable, she's probably totally different. You know how some people are just quiet at first, then they open up.”
The casual confidence in his voice makes my jaw clench. Like Stella's selectiveness is just shyness that needs to be coaxed out of her rather than her being deliberate about who she lets in.
