Page 119 of Rush

I hold the painting under my arm. It’s wrapped in bubble wrap to protect it and covered in brown paper. I went home first, after leaving the gallery, before heading here, so I could wrap it. I didn’t want it on display for everyone to see.

It’s late in the day but still light out. I wave at Josh, the night guard, and make my way inside. Because it’s after hours, the main door is locked, so I have to input the key code to get in.

The building is eerily silent, as it usually is at this time of night. I’d be surprised if anyone was actually here. Thank God all the lights are still on; otherwise, I’d turn around and walk straight back out.

I’m not exactly brave.

Case in point: the fact that I’m here to leave the painting in the locker room for Ares and not take it to his apartment.

I walk to the locker room, my heels echoing loudly against the floor. When I reach the locker room, I push through the door. The light is still on in here, too. I step inside, letting the door close behind me.

I walk over to Ares’s station and stand the painting on the floor, leaning it against the bench, where his cleats sit.

I just stand here for a time, staring at his team shirts hanging there, emotion overwhelming me, remembering the exact moment I met him.

In here. Me, half-naked, soaking wet, and bent over in this very spot.

So much has changed since then.

He hated me. He loved me. He didn’t trust me.

I step forward, closer to his hanging clothes, and his scent washes over me, like the breeze on a warm summer day, making me ache for him. Eliciting memories so wonderful that, in this moment, it’s hard to remember why we aren’t together anymore.

I hear a door bang behind me. I turn, and he’s there.

Ares.

Standing in front of the door to the showers. Hair wet, beads of water running down his chest. He’s still sporting stubble, which is well on its way to a beard. Eyes dark, like sleeping hasn’t been easy for him. A towel tied around his waist.

He looks so beautiful that it hurts.

It’s been just under a week since I last saw him, and yet, right now, it feels like it’s been years.

Longing so fierce jolts through me, making me want to go to him.

But I can’t.

So, I dig my toes into my shoes, staying where I am.

“Hi,” he says softly, looking sad and unsure, all at the same time.

“Hi.” I smile, but it feels sad on my lips. “I didn’t know anyone was here,” I tell him.

“I stayed to do a workout. I just finished up and had a shower. Obviously,” he says with a nod down at his towel, mocking himself.

There’s a beat of silence between us. Silence that once upon a time ago would never have been there.

“How…have you been?” he asks quietly.

“I’m…okay. You?”

He lifts a shoulder. “I…” His eyes close, and he lets out a breath, so achingly somber, it makes me want to cry. His gaze comes to mine. “Full disclosure?”

I bite my lip and nod.

“Not good. I…miss you.”

How I don’t cry in this moment, I’ll never know. I wrap my arms around myself. “I’m sorry.”