Fifteen minutes later, I pulled into the gym’s parking lot.
It’d become my routine over the past two years—sweating out my demons before my mind went to the place I’d been avoiding since Miami. I used to workout sporadically, sometimes with Jelani or Slim. Now, I was there religiously, five to six times a weekfor at least two hours. It kept her face from showing up in my head, at least for a little while.
I’d beat the after-work rush, so it was quieter than usual for a weeknight. I grabbed the duffle bag from my trunk and headed in.
I went straight to the squat rack after a quick warmup on the treadmill. Today was a lower-body circuit—deadlifts and squats. I loaded the bar heavy enough so the only thing I could focus on was my form.
By the time I got to the heavy bag, my legs were jello, but I kept going. The chain rattled overhead with each punch. Jab. Cross. Sweat poured from everywhere. My lungs burned as Jeezy rapped in my ears. I kept hitting until my knuckles ached through the wraps and my shoulders burned so bad I could barely lift my hands above my chest.
When I finally stopped and looked around, the gym had nearly cleared out. It was just me and a few stragglers.
I sat on a bench to catch my breath and peel off the wraps. It’d been two years of this and I still hadn’t figured out how to just…let her go. Every time I thought I’d gotten to a place where I could breathe, something would remind me of her, like a scent, or a song. It was exhausting carrying something that heavy and having nowhere to put it.
I headed for the showers. I stood under the hot water, letting it run over my neck and shoulders until the tightness started to ease. My body was done. That was always the point—get my body so tired there wasn’t room for anything else. No extra space for thoughts that had no business being there.
Especially not her.
I rubbed the newest tattoo on my chest. A small black cat. A kitten.
She was still there.
I considered calling Parker after leaving the gym. I still had that niggling feeling in the back of my mind, and I knew I’d be tempted to hack into the Agency’s servers to see where Nairobi was the second I got home. If working out wouldn’t do it, maybe some pussy would.
Parker was pretty as hell—sable brown skin, doe-shaped eyes, and a banging body. We’d met a few months ago and I made it clear that I wasn’t looking for a relationship. She’d said she was fine with that, but lately it felt like she wanted more. That was a dub. I kept things light on purpose. We only hooked up at her place, did chill dinners, nothing too serious. She was a personal assistant, which checked out when I looked her up. I told her I had my own IT consulting firm, which technically wasn’t a lie.
Traffic on 285 was light, so I had some time to clear my head. My phone vibrated in the center console, and Parker’s name lit up on the display. I stared at it for a second before letting it ring out. Two minutes later, the screen lit up again with her name. I sighed and tapped the button on the steering wheel to answer.
“Yo.”
“Hey, what are you up to?”
“I’m out.”
“Out for work or out for…?”
“Why would I be working after 7:00 p.m.?” I asked. “I work in IT, shorty. No life-or-death emergencies over here.”
Her soft giggle filled the truck. “I don’t know. Maybe a server is down or something?”
I rolled my eyes as I changed lanes. “Nah, nothing like that. Look, I’ll hit you up later, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, a little hesitant. “Don’t forget.”
“Mhm.” I hummed, ending the call.
Lil Baby filled the truck again, and I tossed around the idea of Parker for a minute. It’d be easy—go over there, get out of my head for a few hours, and leave. But calling my phone back-to-back after I didn’t pick up and the “where are you” texts were getting tired. If I went over there tonight, I’d be rewarding that.
I passed her exit and headed towards Drea’s instead.
I was grateful to see her car in the driveway when I pulled up. The door opened as I walked up the walkway.
“You must be bored,” Drea said, leaning against the frame.
I grinned as I stepped inside. “I can’t want to check on my favorite sister and nephew?”
“Your only sister,” she corrected, playfully mushing my forehead. “Gunnar! Your big-headed uncle is here!” she hollered and closed the door behind me.
The house looked like a small tornado had run through it. Gunnar’s sneakers and book bag were kicked off in the middle of the hallway, LEGO bricks and action figures were scattered across the living room floor next to a pile of unfolded laundry on the couch. A sippy cup sat on the TV stand just ‘cause. My condo was the complete opposite. I couldn’t go to bed with a single dish in the sink. Everything had its place, always had.
