2. The Re
CHAPTER TWO
THE REUNION
Julian
I grimace as I lift the barbell again, grunting as I finish the set.
Setting the weight down, I do the other arm as I focus on my form in the mirror. I fucking hate this. I swear this gym is filled with masochists. There’s no other explanation. Every time I pick up a barbell, I mentally draft a resignation letter to fitness, but then I remember the smoothie bar and suck it up. It’s the only thing keeping me from skipping out entirely.
At least with cardio, I can zone out and watch TV. But weight training? It requires my full attention, which is extremely hard, and it’s boring. My mind keeps flitting between ten different things I’d rather be doing, but counting reps helps to yank my focus back to what I’m doing. I promised myself I’d work out more regularly for my mental health, so here I am—at Crestwood’s most exclusive VIP gym. I had a gym in our town house in London, but I never used it. I figured if I paid for a membership, I’d come more often.
So far, so good.
Tracking every weight increase, every rep—as if the numbers mean something more than just strength—helps keep me sane. It’s ridiculous, I know, but I enjoy seeing tangible progress.
Toweling my face off, I walk over to where I set my phone down.
Sophie Love 3
I just learned people microwave their tea here. I think I’m experiencing culture shock. Help. Me.
I laugh as I text her back.
That has to be a cardinal sin.
I shake my head, picturing Sophie’s horrified face as she holds a mug like it’s been cursed.
Should I call the embassy? You could claim asylum.
Sophie Love 3
I’ll look into it. ;)
I just need to do some presses and then I’ll be home.
Sophie Love 3
Mmm. Sounds hot. See you soon.
Pocketing my phone, I walk over to the bench press and set my things down. It’s late afternoon and today is Saturday, which means…
I swallow as I towel my face off again. No use in thinking about it now, or I’ll be sporting a very inconvenient erection.
As always, that brief moment of internalized shame washes over me.
I mean, I love Sophie so fucking much.
But I also love watching her fuck other men.
It doesn’t make sense. I can’t reconcile the two halves of myself—the man who was taught to protect and the man who finds pleasure in letting go. But maybe that’s the point. Maybe I like the idea of breaking rules I never agreed to in the first place.
It’s the kind of thing I shouldn’t like. Not with the way I was raised—straitlaced, taught to keep things proper and respectable. The idea of sharing anything like that, of getting a thrill from it, goes against everything drilled into me growing up. Saturdays always bring that wobble, the knot in my gut tightening just enough to remind me that part of me still clings to what I was supposed to believe.
Lying down on the bench, I push those thoughts away. I focus on lifting, on the fact that I’ve added weight to the barbell every day I’ve been here this week.
Sometimes it’s nice to see concrete progress in one aspect of my life, especially considering the house is still up in the air. I’ve never been huge on working out, but I feel so much better physically and mentally since prioritizing it. It’s fucking hard in the moment, but there’s no glory without hard work.
I’m breathing heavily when I finish, so I sit up slowly and towel myself off.
Movement in the mirror catches my eye, and I see a man with his back to me lifting a fuck-ton of weight on the shoulder press. He’s shirtless, and the muscles on his back ripple with every controlled, up-and-down movement. I can’t help but appreciate the wide shoulders, corded forearms, and tapered waist. That is why I work out—to look like that guy. My eyes peruse a bit lower, taking in his muscular calves and black trainers. His hair is dark and short, and though I can’t see his face, I can appreciate the even, golden complexion of his skin.
Reminds me of ? —
I close my eyes and shake that thought from my head.
Standing, I walk over to the smoothie bar. It’s my treat after every workout, and the best part of becoming a member of this gym, if I’m being totally honest.
As a young woman begins to blend my kale and mango smoothie with extra protein, I let myself think about Malakai Ravage.
I’d give anything to go back to that night in the dorms—to rein my feelings in a bit better, to keep my emotions in check. He was my bisexual awakening, and despite only ever sleeping with two men before Sophie, Kai was my Achilles’ heel.
The one that got away.
Sophie knows about my sexuality, but she has no idea that Malakai started it all. It never felt right telling her about what happened—and to be honest, I’d pushed that night so far back in my mind. I was angry at Kai for years, but now? I’m better. I’ve forgiven him. I mean, for the most part at least. Sophie makes me happy. And I hope Kai is, too, wherever he is. We don’t follow each other on social media, so I don’t even know if he still lives in Crestwood, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.
Especially since Sophie and Stella Ravage are friends now.
“Kale and mango with dragon fruit,” the woman calls, letting me know it’s ready.
“Thanks,” I tell her, tapping the virtual tip jar with my phone and depositing one hundred dollars.
Her eyes go wide, but I’m already walking to the locker room and sipping the delicious smoothie.
As I walk into the locker room, I notice the same guy from earlier changing. I nearly stop walking as he tugs his shorts down and I get a full view of his perfectly sculpted arse. Damn. Smirking, I walk to my locker nearby and begin grabbing things for my shower. When I turn around, the man is gone, but the sound of a shower starting around the corner tells me he hasn’t gone far. We seem to be the only two people in here, which is only minorly creepy.
I shower quickly, rinsing the sweat off and letting the hot water run down my face and chest. The showers here are the cleanest I’ve ever seen, and it doesn’t feel like a locker room shower. It feels like a nice hotel shower, and considering Sophie and I are living out of a tiny guest bathroom with a capsule shower, this feels luxurious in comparison.
Shutting the water off, I grab my towel and open the door of the shower room, running smack-dab into another body.
“Fuck—”
“Sorry—”
I stumble back, blinking the water from my eyes. I look up, and my heart stops dead in my chest before hammering out of control.
Malakai Ravage.
Time slows in that shitty cinematic way I hate. I notice everything—the water dripping down his collarbones, the faint nick on his jawline from shaving.
I hate that my brain still catalogs him like this.
He’s staring at me, his gray eyes wide with surprise, and then recognition clicks into place. Drops of water trail down the scruff on his neck, over his bare chest, all the way down to the hard lines of his abs. He looks… different. Older . Rougher around the edges. But it’s him.
It’s Kai .
My pulse spikes, not from shock but from everything I’ve buried for the last seventeen years, and God, I hate that. I thought the next time I saw Malakai, I’d be able to control my emotions, but… a fiery maelstrom burns through me instantly.
For a moment, I’m frozen. My breath catches, and all the anger, the confusion, the hurt —it all rises up again, clawing at the walls I’ve spent years building. But it’s dulled, worn down by time. It’s not sharp anymore, not like it used to be. I guess I’m thankful for that.
I have no right to be angry anymore. Life moved on. I moved on. I have Sophie now. I’m happy. Really happy . But damn if it doesn’t still sting, seeing him here, like this, like nothing’s changed when everything has.
I swallow hard and pull myself together, wiping away whatever shadow of emotion might’ve crossed my face. I won’t give him that. Not anymore. I grip the towel tighter around my neck, like that’s going to do anything to stop my pulse from racing.
“Malakai.”
I say his name like I’m trying it on for size, but it doesn’t fit right anymore. Too tight. Too worn in all the wrong places. My voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it, one I can’t quite hide. I nod, forcing some semblance of civility, even though every part of me feels like it’s vibrating with tension.
Kai blinks again, taking me in, and his lips part as if he’s about to say something. He doesn’t, though. Just stares at me like he’s still trying to figure out what to do with me being here.
But I’m not giving him the satisfaction of asking. He lost that chance a long time ago.
“Julian? You… look different,” he finally manages, voice lower and rougher than I remember.
“So do you.” My lips twitch into a humorless smile, and I let my gaze flick over him again before I snap it back to his face. I won’t let myself linger. Not again .
The silence stretches, heavy, as if neither of us knows what to say next. Or maybe there’s too much to say, and neither of us knows where to start. It’s almost suffocating, this unspoken weight between us, the years, the memories, the kiss that never got a chance to become anything more.
He clears his throat, shifting on his feet. “What are you doing here?” His words are careful, like he’s walking on glass, unsure of how thin the ice is beneath us.
I offer a half-smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing.” I don’t mean for it to sound as harsh as it does, but it slips out before I can stop it. It feels easier to deflect than to explain the knot tightening in my chest.
His expression falters, and I know he catches it. The sting beneath the surface. I see something like regret cross his face, but I won’t fall for that either. Not now.
I sigh, forcing myself to release the tension in my shoulders. “We just recently moved back from London,” I explain.
“We?” he asks, brows knitting together.
“My wife, Sophie, and I.”
I say it like I’m laying down a card in a game we’re both pretending not to play. Kai watches me carefully, but I flash him the same grin I give everyone.
Unbothered.
Easygoing.
Like it doesn’t matter.
Except my fingers won’t stop drumming against the water bottle in my hand.
I shift, leaning casually against the lockers as if we’re just two old friends catching up. As if my pulse isn’t still trying to break free of my chest.
This is what I do—what I’ve always done. Keep it light. Don’t let anyone know when something cuts deeper than I want to admit. It works everywhere else. It always has. But standing here in front of Kai? I can feel the edges of that easy grin start to slip.
He nods slowly, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “That’s great,” he says, voice soft, almost hesitant. “And you… go to this gym?”
“I do. I’ve been a few times a week since we moved here.”
“I see.”
The words hang there between us, and for a moment, I wonder if he’s waiting for me to say something more. Maybe ask him why he left. Maybe confront him with the hurt I buried a long time ago. But I won’t. That door was closed, locked, and I’m not opening it again. I hold his gaze, searching his face for any sign of the boy I once loved, but all I see is a stranger standing in front of me, soaked and silent.
“I should go. See you around,” I say quietly, stepping around him, our shoulders brushing for just a moment as I pass.
I begin to walk away without looking back, leaving Malakai standing there with whatever weight he’s carrying. It’s not my burden to bear anymore. But even as I get to my locker, the sting of it all still lingers, a dull ache that time hasn’t quite erased. And maybe it never will.
“Wait,” Malakai calls, and I hear him come after me.
I turn back to face him, clenching my teeth to stop myself from saying something I might regret. Malakai’s standing there, a little unsure, but there’s something in his eyes—maybe hope or desperation, I’m not sure. And part of me wonders what he could possibly want after all this time.
He shifts awkwardly before he finally speaks. “I have an hour before I have to be somewhere. Want to grab a coffee and catch up?”
I cross my arms, narrowing my eyes at him. Do I have an hour? Not really. But I could make the time if I wanted to. The question is, do I want to? Should I give him the satisfaction of sitting down with him like nothing happened, like we’re just two old friends reconnecting? I’m not sure if I’m ready for that—or if I even want to be.
What does he think a coffee is going to fix?
And yet, before I can stop myself, the word comes out. “Sure.” The word leaves my mouth before I can snatch it back. I’m not sure if I said it because I want closure or because I’m still the same clown who can’t say no to him.
Malakai’s eyes light up, a small glimmer of triumph flashing across his face before he clears his throat, trying to play it cool. “Cool. Meet you out front in five?”
I nod, and we part ways without another word. As I walk off, towel still slung over my shoulder, I can’t shake the feeling that this is a really, really bad idea.
The ache in my chest, the one I thought time had dulled, flares up again. Seeing him after all these years has kicked up dust I thought had long settled. And now I’m about to sit down with him, have coffee, and pretend like none of it ever happened?
What the hell am I doing?
I text Sophie so that she doesn’t worry.
Ran into Malakai at the gym. Going for a quick coffee, so I’ll be home a bit later.
Her response comes in immediately.
Sophie Love 3
Okay, babe. Love you.
I stare at her response for a moment, the warmth of her words tugging at me, grounding me. Love you . Simple. Steady. Safe. It’s everything I have with Sophie—everything I should be focusing on right now. But instead, I’m about to sit down with the one person who once shattered all of that before I even had the chance to know what it felt like.