Page 68 of Mommy

Of fucking course.

Every other dude might have noticed, but definitely wouldn’t have opened their mouth. There’s a slim chance that Ezekiel will keep his trap shut. My only hope is that he’s too out of it to notice me.

He’s dressed in dark jeans and a loose shirt similar to the one he gifted me years ago. But instead of the simple white writing on mine, his has a bigger slogan reading: GET JACKED, GET LAID. His gym bag is slung around one shoulder.

Not turning fully I take a better look at him. 50% of the time Ezekiel comes here, he is coming for one reason and one reason only: free therapy. Like most of us really.

But apparently not today. His gaze is clear, and immediately finds me standing in front of my locker despite the phone in his hand. And of course it takes him only half a second to recognize the state I’m still in.

“Sup man?” I greet him, but he ignores my attempt to keep things cool. A grin spreads his lips.

“Sporting wood, huh?” Letting his bag drop on one of the benches he leans against the locker next to mine and gives me a once over. “I’m guessing you’re not here by yourself either then?”

This gets my attention.

“You finally got her to come along?”

His girlfriend isn’t one for fitness, and she works through her trauma, her emotions a lot different than Ezekiel and me. And apparently Ivy too. Rosemary is doing the “healthy” thing: talking and feeling, and all that stuff that I avoid like it’s the plague.

Instead of giving an answer, Ezekiel turns his phone screen now facing me. And sure enough, there is his girlfriend. A dog in her lap and a cup of steaming something in her hand.

“Man, Ezekiel, one day they will throw you out for having your phone out in the locker room.”

His grin exposes his teeth.

“What, you about to snitch on me?”

I mirror his smile and let my pecks make a little hop just for the fun of it.

“Not if you’re suddenly willing to share.”

The amused twinkle in his eyes snuffs out in less than 0.1 seconds, the camera angling away from me again.

It’s too easy with him. Just the idea of me wanting his girl has him losing his cool.

Despite me assuring him, I don’t care about Rosemary like that, Ezekiel ends the phone call shortly after, and instead of a bro hug, he punches my shoulder as way of saying good bye.

Still chuckling, I find Ivory waiting for me at the counter. She’s talking to one of the girls from the staff, only turning when I lightly tap on her shoulder to get her attention.

“I thought Posie was waiting for you at home?” I ask, letting my gaze drop to Ivory’s lips.

They split into a grin, her tone dipping into laughter as she rolls her eyes.

“Don’t say home, like it’s mine. I’m only staying for as long as Posie needs me there.”

“Potatoes, po-ta-tos.”

I don’t care if Ivory doesn’t like it, she's living with me now, so I’ll call it home. She lives at my house.

If I would’ve known that all it took for her to stay with me permanently was a dog also being at my house, I would’ve gotten one from the shelter the very first time I saw her there.

Maybe I should’ve fostered the white dog she kept fussing over when I first saw her.

But, better late than never. And I gotta admit, Posie is kind of cute.

And she isn’t too noisy.

Actually, she sleeps most of the time, only waking up to eat and get scratches from Ivory for peeing outside before she returns to her crate.