Hope
The next evening, met up with Laura at Ikea, having promised her to help furnish her new apartment. They hadn’t even gone up the escalator when Laura started her interrogation.
“So, tell me all about your date,” Laura demanded, tying her hip long blonde hair into a ponytail before hooking her arm into ’s.
“I don’t think the butterflies have stopped.”
“Did you kiss?”
“Cheek only, but he did say he liked my eyes and my cheeky grin.”
“Secret hand holding?”
“Not secret and he likes it when I play with his hair.”
Laura squealed and cheered her on, squeezing every little detail out of her. They picked up a few pieces for Laura’s bedroom and spent the evening hauling them into a borrowed truck and to Laura’s new apartment. After a quick dinner they started assembling the dresser Laura had chosen. Halfway through, and three laugh attacks later, ’s phone started to ring. And the name on the screen had her heart racing.
“Hi Decan. ”
“You sound fluffy. What are you up to?”
“Building a dresser with Laura and questioning our college degrees.”
“Let me guess, the instructions are in Swedish?”
“It at least feels like it.”
“Oh, is that him?” Laura chimed, returning to the room with drinks and snacks. “Let me talk to him.”
“Laura wants to talk to you. I warn you now, she probably won’t behave.”
“Isn’t that what all friends do?” he asked with a chuckle.
handed over the phone with a warning glare as her best friend sat back down next to her. “Hello Decan. I’ve heard you make my best friend happy.” There was a pause in which Laura flashed a naughty smile. “But if I hear anything about you hurting her, I will slash your tires and key your car.” She let out a long laugh. “Yeah, I might stab those tires too.” Another giggle, and she handed the phone back.
“Sorry about that,” quickly apologised.
“Don’t apologise for having someone care that much about you. She’s trying to protect someone she loves. Now go have fun.”
“I like him,” Laura declared the second hung up the phone.
“Maybe if you stop threatening to sabotage his mobility, I’ll let you meet him.”
They shared knowing smiles, and continued their search for the missing A8 piece that would allow them to get the dresser done before they passed out in the middle of the floor.
The next day was stressful at work, and was glad when she was finally able to leave the office. When she checked her phone and saw a text from Decan, her mood instantly lifted. She dialled his number, letting the phone ring through the car’s Bluetooth as she drove home.
“Off this late?” he asked right away.
sighed. “Yeah…”
“You sound stressed. Everything okay?”
“Just a long day at work.”
“I’m heading out for a late gym session. Would you like to join me?”
Her first reaction was to say no, but then again, maybe taking her frustrations out on a treadmill would help.
“Pretty please?” he added with a hopeful tone.
“What gym do you go to?”
“Twenty-Four Hour on San Felipe and Voss. You can be my plus one.”
“Okay, but I’ll probably just go on the treadmill or something.”
“I’m not expecting you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. There is a pool if you prefer swimming.”
“Maybe another day.”
“And you don’t have to stay long.”
smiled. “What time?”
“An hour? Does that give you enough time?”
“That should work, but I’ll let you know if I’m stuck. ”
“I’ll wait out front for you.”
“See you in a bit.”
Sure enough, it took her a little over an hour to get home, change into her gym clothes, and make the drive through congested Houston. Decan was waiting by the entrance, a smile curling his lips the second he laid eyes on her. Suddenly, she felt awfully self conscious about the way her thighs jiggled in her leggings. She’d grown to tolerate the weight she’d put on since her sporty days, but with Decan looking like a five course meal in shorts and a tank, she couldn’t help but miss her flat stomach.
“Sorry.”
“Not sure what you’re apologising for. You texted that it was bad out there.”
“Are you working out alone?”
“No, Marco is already waiting inside.”
She held the door open and followed him to the desk, where a young woman signed her in as Decan’s guest. Once that was out of the way, Decan gestured up to the second floor.
“Treadmills are up there, and the lockers are right over there.” He pointed at the other end of the gym. “Leave whenever you like, but not without saying goodbye.” Then, he reached for her loose shirt and tied the side of it over her hip bone. “You’re gorgeous, don’t hide yourself.”
“You’re putting my audiobook to shame. I’m already blushing.”
“People will just think it was me and not a naughty story in your head. Now go.”
“Shouldn’t I say hi to your friend? ”
“God no. Once he starts talking he doesn’t stop. We’ll never get anything done.”
“Fair enough.” smiled and headed up the stairs, choosing a treadmill right at the bannister that overlooked the gym floor. She had the perfect view. Decan stood with who she assumed was Marco. Once he’d warmed up at a—damn what were the bicycles for the arms called?—he went on to do some bench presses. He effortlessly transferred out of the wheelchair and onto the bench, securing his legs down with a belt. Marco spotted him, running his mouth and earning himself a few scolding glares from Decan that made her giggle to herself.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him as they worked through their routine. Before she knew it, she was out of breath and sweating profusely. Looking down at the timer, she was shocked to find that she’d been slow jogging for thirty minutes already. Maybe coming to the gym with Decan wasn’t as bad as she thought. She slowed her speed, letting her heart rate come down and finished off with some stretches. Probably not to the standard of an athlete but who cared? Not her.
Deeming herself spent, she wiped the sweat from her brow—even though it was useless—and made her way over to Decan. She lingered nearby, letting him finish his set before she approached.
“Leaving?” he asked.
“Yeah. It wasn’t as bad as I thought after all.”
“Ah, your woman might come more often,” Marco teased, catching ’s attention.
She quickly offered him a hand. “I’m . ”
“I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Marco.”
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“Okay, let her go before she’s stuck with one of your monologues. She’s too polite to tell you to shut up.”
“I’m just curious,” Marco defended, hands held up in surrender.
“We never decided on dinner tomorrow,” said, changing the subject.
“I was thinking of lasagne?” Decan suggested ignoring his best friend’s pouting face.
“Sounds good. Should I bring anything?”
“Just yourself.”
“And dessert?” she prodded, unsure about showing up empty handed.
“I thought she was the dessert—ow!” Marco earned himself a punch to the gut with that one.
“Bring whatever you like,” Decan offered with a smile.
“Okay.” Then she shily waved and walked off, grinning at the hushed bickering that followed her out of the building.